A bit of coffee sits at the bottom of the mug. It isn’t enough for a nice big gulp, and it’s much too cold now. If you look inside it, you could sort of see your reflection. Muddled and warped, but still there. “Hey me, at the bottom of the mug!” This smooth ivory receptacle has cinnamon sprinkled all over its walls. Like freckles, speckled about, adding warmth and character. It smells so good, but there’s so little left. I wish I had a fuller cup of coffee.