Lily and the Glass: A Tragedy in One Act

It began, as most things with Lily do, with eye contact. She looked at the glass. She looked at me. She looked back at the glass. I said, out loud, 'Lily, don't.' She did.

The glass went off the edge of the table in slow motion — the kind of slow motion that gives you just enough time to realize you are not going to catch it, but not enough time to actually do anything about it. It hit the floor. Water everywhere. Lily, satisfied, walked away.

I have since purchased a weighted tumbler. Lily has since discovered that pens, hair ties, and the TV remote are also subject to gravity. We are in an ongoing negotiation.

I would not trade her for anything. But I have started putting my drinks in the other room.