For @mariannewest/day-131-5-minute-freewrite-tuesday-prompt-solitude
Alone in a cabinet lies a little broken dish. It sits on a shelf at the top of stairs. A shelf that is forgotten, unwieldy, useless. There, for companionship, is only dust.
The shelf was installed in the fervor of a younger age. Every large family needed more space for things, and this space would keep the good china, that was only needed once a year at most. Dad would get out an odd ladder contraption that fit snugly into the steps and he would climb to retrieve the delicate dishes.
It has been years since that family lived here. They left the broken tea saucer forgotten. Forgotten by all except little Caroline, who broke it and put it back and hoped that no one would notice or at least know it was she who broke it. And perhaps they didn't. Perhaps they did. The little dish will never know, for it has sat, unknown and unknowing waiting for the dustbin or the glue.
Now a bright young couple with plenty of space for their pared down lifestyle of disposable and permanent and digital things live here. Their dishes go on the bookshelf, because the books are in their pockets on a cloud,