JQCTeam

  It didn’t fog at first. The cup stood still, no visible change. I declared it neutral. But as the minutes passed, I realized I’d underestimated its resistance to temperature—more specifically, the boundary where the air recognized it. I remember a glass like this breaking, once, in a quiet room. It didn’t fall. It just... split. Clean, symmetrical, almost polite. This one felt thicker. Maybe it remembered that too. The surface seemed preoccupied, avoiding the condensation path. I reached for it, paused. My hand hovered for just long enough to be noticed, but not long enough to justify a decision. The moment passed; the cup remained uninvited. Some permissions aren’t granted aloud. The woman across from me stirred her drink too slowly. It disrupted nothing visible, but my cup reacted—a faint shift in the reflection. I didn’t blink. Observation takes priority over comfort. The table had a dent. Slight, almost intentional. When the base of the cup touched it, the balance altered—bar...