Exeunt, with flourish
At this point, what would you have done? Probably stopped the car, gotten out, and retrieved your cup, right?
I wasn't running late. I happened to like the particular cup I'd just done violence to. I'd been excited to drink the coffee on my way into town, but I could have easily replaced the coffee. The cup was the thing to rescue. Which is why I can't understand what I did next. I'd slowed down when I'd heard the first sounds of cup-on-moving-car, to where it probably looked like I was about to stop and get out. I saw in my rear view mirror tendrils of coffee dripping down my back windshield. And I decided to just go. I accelerated, and as I rounded the corner, I saw the cup laying in the middle of my street, top popped off at last, steaming guts pooling around it.
It really felt like a hit-and-run. And when I turned into my driveway this afternoon, baby bear babbling in the backseat, diaper bag and work bag in the same places they were this morning, I saw the cup, top on but askew, perched on the railing of my back porch. Which means that someone guessed it was mine, or, that someone saw the whole thing go down.
I guess it's good to appall oneself every once in a while.