_Ode to My Mug_

Oh, my beloved ceramic cup,

Each morning, we greet the rising sun,

A steaming embrace in my hand,

Filled with liquid warmth—you’re the one.

No beating heart within your rim,

Yet you hold the pulse of my day,

Coffee, tea, cocoa—whichever whim,

In your gentle curve, dreams stay.

I cradle you, a partner in thought,

**Through t...

For my 23rd birthday, I didn’t expect much. A quiet dinner with my family, a few calls from friends, maybe some new books. But when my grandfather handed me a small, worn-out box, something inside me stirred. His eyes twinkled behind thick glasses, and a mischievous grin crept up on his face.

“Happy birthday, Emma,” he said, patting my shoulder.

**I smiled, peeling the faded pape...