The Cup at the Train Station

TThere is a ceramic cup sitting on the bench at platform three of the train station near where I live. It has been there for four days.

I noticed it Tuesday morning on my way out. It was on the right end of the bench, slightly off-center, the handle pointing inward. There was nothing in it. The cup itself was warm sand color, with a slightly chipped rim. The kind of cup someone has owned for years.

I didn't move it. I went and got the train.

When I came back that afternoon, the cup was still there. The handle was still pointing inward. The rim chip was still on the same side. Either no one had touched it since morning, or someone had touched it and put it back exactly where it was, which is unlikely but, you know, possible.

I checked Wednesday. Still there.
Thursday. Still there.
Friday. Still there.

Today is Saturday. I went specifically to look. The cup is still there.

I don't know what to make of this. Cups don't usually stay places. Train stations have cleaners. Other people use the bench. Surely someone has noticed it, picked it up, decided to do something about it. And yet.

The cup is in the way of nothing. It takes up about ten centimeters of bench space at one end. It is no one's problem.

There are two readings.

The first: the cup has been there long enough that everyone who walks past assumes it belongs to whoever is sitting next to it. They don't think about it. The cup has become invisible to motion.

The second: someone is taking care of it. Someone who works at the station, or someone who passes through often, has decided this cup is staying. They check on it. They make sure it's still on the right end of the bench, handle pointing inward. They don't tell anyone. They just keep it.

I prefer the second reading. I don't have evidence for it. I prefer it anyway.

There is a third reading, which is more honest. Someone left the cup. They did not come back for it. They did not realize they had left it, or they realized and decided not to return for it, or they meant to return and forgot, or they died. Any of these is possible. The cup does not know which one is true. The cup has settled into its position on the bench in a way that doesn't depend on the answer.

I left the cup where it was. I didn't take a photograph. If you go to platform three of the train station nearest me, it is probably still there. If you sit on the bench, sit on the left end. Don't touch the cup.

—I.