Form and Function

This was my entry into this week’s “5 Minute Fiction” Challenge, run by Leah Patersen. I didn’t make the final five, this time, but here’s the story, with some editing and embellishing. The cue word was ‘teapot’. –M

Megan was a repurposer. Very few things in her apartment, in her life, were used in the capacieties for which they were designed. Her clothing, almost all of it, belonged to blue collar professions that probably didn’t even exist anymore, but somehow still looked like they were made for her. Her bed was packing foam covered in old tent canvas, on replaced plywood roof panels, yet it was surprisingly comfortable for both fucking and sleeping.

I watched, fascinated, as she spooned out the grounds into cheesecloth and tied the bundle together with unwaxed dental floss. She took the makeshift filter and lowered it into a chipped ceramic teapot, wrapping the floss line around the middle of the spout a few times before taking the frying pan filled with water off the stove and pouring the just-boiled contents, very carefully in.

She turned to her cabinet, pulling out a laboratory 250ml beaker with handle and spout, and small flowerpot with the hole on the bottom stoppered by a cork; offering me the beaker before bringing a jewelry box full of sugar and a small wattering can of milk to the table.

As we waited for the coffee to steep, I looked over at her, to find her gazing back, head tilting like a balance just off equilirbium. I wondered what ‘boyfriend’ or ‘lover’ translated to; what function followed my form, in Megan’s world?