​ A Kitchen Cupboard

by Victor Myshak

Imagine a common kitchen cupboard above a sink. How could it be exciting? - you ask. Watch.

I am an eight-year old cupboard in the kitchen. I hang above a stainless steel Sink with a tall shiny Tap. A number of residents occupy the room inside me. Some of them are constant and have lived on the top shelf for years. They are the cups and mugs and glasses and one Thermos Flask which were dismissed ages ago for different reasons, either they lost the favorable attitude of their owners or were given by unimaginative humans and are so ugly they simply hide in my darkest corners in embarrassment.

My lower levels are occupied by more resent although temporary residents. Those are full of self importance as they are regularly in use and highly needed. The plates and bowls which inhabit the lowest level are mostly blue collar crockery. They leave me before lunchtime and return late at night or even the next day after lunch (Weird businesses hours, don’t you think?) all clean and fresh and shiny and smelling of the washing-up liquid.

A cleaner Sponge, which lives either with the Sink or the Tap, visits me at times as well after all the residents have been chased away. I adore how gently she wipes my every single shelf and the glorious front door. Then the whole party of freshly washed dwellers of mine are rushed back inside in perfect order. However the ugly ones are placed in the darkest corners anyway. Pathetic existence, isn’t it?

The other groups of residents aren’t too steady either. They are cups, this is where the part of my name comes from, board - probably because they are so noisy clinking and chiming. They occupy the middle section of mine. A jolly company of white collar employees which are taken away on business early in the morning and then got lost for days somewhere in this outer space called flat. Some of them can mysteriously disappear and some come back chipped and cracked but then vanish in a day or two and a new ones with labels still on their bottoms move in as a replacement.Their jobs must be extremely dangerous. However I more and more often observe as all of them, stained and smeared, unnaturally stacked, spend their time in the Sink below. Some work!

There is always a weirdo in a company of decent citizens. Mine is a beer Mug. She is chubby and one pint tall. She stays in five days a week only being calledout on Friday nights, briefly returned on Saturday morning, has a couple of hours break then she is invited to some event again. What a wild lifestyle! Rumor has it she used to be in the stuff of some London pub back in a day. Nevertheless she ends up in the gutter of the Sink like the rest.

In the same filthy pile of the Sink I often look down on the residents of the under the cooking surface cupboards and drawers. Those pans of different sizes and frying pan things with or without lids and even stranger folks like forks, spoons, knives, ladles, spatulas and what not. They proudly call themselves Cutlery. Those lads must be members of a gruesome gang. What do they have in common with my lot? Could they have something to do with my cups’ disappearances? Is it some kind of conspiracy against me and my battery? I am all freaking out thinking about it!


1. St. A: Look in the darkest right corner on the top shelf and ask the ugliest resident there about their story.

St. B: Invent a story of the ugliest cup and answer St. A’s questions.

2. Imagine you are two regular cups. Speculate on what happened to your colleague which was returned chipped another day and then disappeared in the thin air.

3. Imagine you are the Sponge and describe your everyday activities.

4. Imagine you are the beer Mug and tell your life story.

5. Describe a drawer where the cutlery is stored. Keep in mind they might be a ruthless mob.

6. Imagine you are the Thermos Flask. Tell us about your neighbors.

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