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DEAR DIARY

11.15.2025

The man carried the glass to the table and set it down. There was no coaster. He didn't notice or care. He put damp glass on porous wood and by the next day a ring had appeared.

The table would wear the ring always, now, an everlasting mark of constancy.

The man never acknowledged his new bride. He ordered a taxi to the airport, he went back to Italy, he got a new job at a mid-sized accounting firm, he married a short woman, he watched TV mystery dramas, when he drank wine he got nostalgic and told stories about his school days.

He drank every day - wine, water, cocktails, juice, alka-seltzer. He pressed a thousand cups intimately to his lips, drained them, set a thousand glasses (empty, full) on a thousand rigid, dutiful, fidelitous tables. He thought nothing of it.