The Cup No One Counted — Before the first plate was passed, Silas set himself a private task: no empty cup would wait. Read the full story →
Before the first plate was passed, Silas set himself a private task: no empty cup would wait. He left the shaded bench for the tap beyond the roses, carrying the heavy pitcher while gravel clicked under his shoes and mint brushed his wrist. Halfway back, he noticed the little lantern by the path had gone dark in the bright afternoon; inside, a trapped moth tapped like a fingernail. Silas put the pitcher down, opened the tiny door, and let it lift into the sun. The water was warmer when he returned, but every cup was filled, and no one saw the moth circle once above the table like a blessing over the first plate.
