The white cup was sitting on the table, a leftover dish from breakfast. It was the one with the black and yellow logo from a company where she used to work.
Who was drinking from it, me or him, she thought, but couldn’t remember. It didn’t matter now anyway.
The fight had been one of those lingering ones. You know, the kind that contained residue from previous fights, things said long ago that were never truly dealt with. All of it contributed to the explosion that eventually happened.