He had the feeling that something was wrong the day he bought it.
His old coffee mug had seen better days, much like him. It was when it got chipped during the washing up that he decided to treat himself to a new one. It was definitely time for an upgrade. Whenever he was up at the shopping centre he would see what was on offer. It was on one of these occasions that he came across the shop by taking a different route to the bus stop. It was a strange little place that at first looked like a second hand shop, but at the same time everything in it looked new. Peering in through the front window he saw it. He went in. A very old woman, dressed entirely in black, appeared from somewhere. She came across as rather creepy. Anyway, she took the mug out of her window display and let him hold it for a while. It was white enamel, the right size with a nice handle. It was not at all expensive, so he bought it.
When he got home, he couldn’t wait to try it. He felt like a child again. He made a mug of coffee and sat drinking it. That was the first day. It wasn’t until the following morning that he noticed that the mug had some very strange symbols around it. They were faint and only just visible. He didn’t recognise any of them. The next thing he saw, when the cup was empty, that the thing had gone back to being white. There was not a mark on it! Day three was even more peculiar. Pouring boiling water into it brought all of the markings back. They were clear now, although undecipherable. He realised that the temperature was causing it. If this was a sales feature, the weird shop owner hadn’t mention it.
Over the next few days the symbols stayed. It was as though it had been primed somehow. It was around a week later that the first incident of the mug moving took place. He had been sitting reading the paper when he had put the mug down on the coffee table and left the room. When he returned it was gone! Bewildered, he hunted around and finally found it sitting up on the shelf in the cupboard. He was absolutely sure he hadn’t put it there. He lived on his own; no one else could have done it. The next morning he was surprised to find it missing from where he had left it the night before, next to the kettle, where he always left it last thing at night. Eventually, he found it in the dishwasher.
The following day, it moved twice. It went from the middle of the kitchen table, were he had left it, to the narrow space between the kitchen sink and the window. He would never put it there! Then, because he left it there, in such a strange place, to go away and think about it, it was gone when he came back. This told him that it only moves if you take your eyes off it. So, when he finally found it, in the microwave of all places, he just simply never did that because he was not convinced that it was a safe thing to do, he decided to put his theory to the test. He would sit down with it right in front of him, for an hour if he had to, and not take his eyes off it.
He made his drink and took it through to the living room. He made himself comfortable, drank his coffee, and then placed the empty cup in the middle of the coffee table. He sat watching it. He was determined to keep his eyes on it all afternoon if he had to. More than an hour had gone by when a loud bang came from the street. Quite naturally, he glanced out of the window for the briefest of moments. It had probably been a car backfiring. He was thinking this when he realised that the mug had gone. In that tiniest instant, it had moved. He had proved his theory. As time went on, this evidence of it moving only when it was out of sight, made the whole thing a lot easier to live with somehow.
Shortly after this discovery, the lady from across the street, a friend he’d known for a number of years, called in to let him know she’d be away for a few days. Her son was picking her up and she’d be taking a holiday with his family. As usual, it was a request for him to keep his eye on the house while she was away. He said he was happy to do it and invited her in for a cupper. They’d been sitting for a while, with her telling him how much she enjoyed spending time with her grandchildren, when he decided to tell her about the mug.
Without describing the peculiar circumstances of how he had bought it or the gradual appearance of the strange symbols, he gave her a detailed, blow by blow account of its remarkable movements. Finally, he sat back, waiting for a response.
The elderly woman’s face crinkled into a smile. “Oh! I wouldn’t worry about that,” she said, “I have a teacup at home that’s always doing that!”