Prompt: Coasters

I have a little round wooden box. Inside there are six little dark wooden discs, carved with tropical scenes. I used to like to open and close the box and take out the coasters just to hear the click of the wood and to feel the lid fit snugly into its canister. I'd lay the circles out in lines and patterns on the coffee table, shuffling them like a magician practicing a trick.

I've since lost my little trinket. I'm guessing it's in a box, in a closet, in the house, packed away, waiting patiently to protect a surface somewhere in the future. In the meantime, I drink my tea in the mornings and before bed, placing my cup, or glass, on the naked table between sips. The faint shadow of a ring has appeared now and again, but these days I have a dish rag at the ready to wipe away any residue of a past.