The life and laughs of Coppy, the coffee mug

I am a coffee mug. You might wonder, dear reader, what on earth would a coffee mug have to say. But by the time I finish this piece, you will find yourself sympathizing with the hard and often perilous life that a porcelain coffee mug might have.

To start with, people almost always insensitively use me for holding scalding hot coffee. Helloa, I am made of porcelain – why can’t you use a steel tumbler instead? He is sleeping undisturbed in your cupboard. This is almost always followed up with a dip in ice cold water. How do these morons think cracks are formed in mugs like me?

The guy who calls himself my owner often insensitively plonks his show-off glasses like now. The smart-alec can’t stop flaunting his sun twinkles at passers-by. To add insult to injury, I just saw myself reflected in the window-pane and saw that ninny teapot painted on my side.

Isn’t this not enough to drive you insane?

Thanks to the amazing Priceless Joy for the challenge and Shivam for the photo prompt.

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