Thief of Time - Coffee

This is the desk of a professional. It is clear that their job is their life. There are... human touches, but these are the human touches that strict usage allows in a chilly world of duty and routine. Mostly they're on the only piece of real colour in this picture of blacks and greys.

It's a coffee mug. Someone somewhere wanted to make it a jolly mug. It bears a rather unconvincing picture of a teddy bear, and the legend 'To The World's Greatest Grandad' and the slight change in the style of lettering on the word 'Grandad' makes it clear that this has come from one of those stalls that have hundreds of mugs like this, declaring that they're for the world's greatest Grandad/Dad/Mum/Granny/Uncle/Aunt/Blank.

Only someone whose life contains very little else, one feels, would treasure a piece of gimcrackery like this. It currently holds tea, with a slice of lemon. The bleak desktop also contains a paperknife in the shape of a scythe and a number of hourglasses. Death picks up the mug in a skeletal hand... ... and took a sip, pausing only to look again at the wording he'd read thousands of times before, and then put it down.

VERY WELL, he said, in tones of funeral bells. SHOW ME.

***

The Thief of Time - p8