The empty, white cup sits alone on the table.
Having stained the inside of the unremarkable white cup with the black coffee she insists on drinking, she left it behind. Uncollected, it’s a monument overflowing with her absence and filling the air with echoes of her laugh and mirages of her smiling face.
He glares at the empty cup, because she left him behind too. To sit alone marked by her presence but full of her absence.
The cup will eventually be collected and washed clean. But removing the stain she left on his own heart, is not as easy.