neighborhood: all looking the same in size and shape, all cubes with lids that looked like rooftops with round button equse knobs to open them up. The walls that formed the sections almost acted like little wooden fences separating the houses in this candy colored suburb. Stu watched Albert leisurely lean over and grab one yellow container, without even looking. “How the Hell do you find anything in here? Nothing is labeled.” Albert filled a reusable tea bag with the camomile tea he had chosen. “There is a system to it, organized in columns by leaf, black, white and so on, then each row is a different possible type of added flavor and all the containers are color coded. But if I’m being honest, I just go by memory.” After he returned the other one he had retrieved back in it’s rightful place, he reached over and pulled the one in the uphand left corner of the tray and handed it to Stu. About the size of a rubik’s cube, it was a deep dark, nearly black blue with little random flecks of color embedded in the glaze that made the ceramic glisten in the light and gave it a cool and smooth finish to the touch. There were intricate swirling grooves that had been carved into the sides. Impressed, Stu nodded his head in approval. “I never knew you were so artistic.” “I’m not. He was.” The silence, though brief, was strong enough to make the air thick and hard to breathe. “This,” he pointed to the blue ceramic he had handed Stu, “Is the first one he made for me. He had made it in pottery class.” A watched
The silence, though brief, was strong enough to make the air thick and hard to breathe.
pot never boils but he stared down the kettle while he spoke because he couldn’t bring himself to look away. “I was so proud, and I asked him where he thought we should display it, and he said we should use it for the loose leaf tea I kept buying. I protested at first, arguing that it was a piece of art and no one would get to see it if we just used it for my tea collection that was getting out of hand.” He moved to the cupboard on the right hand side of the oven where he kept the mugs, set one on the counter, and placed the tea bag inside. “But he said he didn’t care if anyone got to see it, he made it for me, not everyone else. He just wanted me to get some good use out of it. So,” he cleared his throat and stared straight ahead as he took the kettle off the hot burner. “As you can see, I came around.” FEATURED ALUMNI WORK
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