Avelrow Publishing
by Laura Carpenter
The Good Cups The kettle sang like it had heard gossip and was morally obliged to spread it. Aunt Máiréad tapped the handle twice before she lifted it. Once for luck, once because she trusted nothing that came to a boil too quickly. Maeve stood on the footstool beneath the good-cup cupboard, eight years old, trusted with porcelain but not boiling water, which felt like a personal insult and a sensible policy at the same time.
Public sample through Chapter 2
About the book
The Good Cups The kettle sang like it had heard gossip and was morally obliged to spread it. Aunt Máiréad tapped the handle twice before she lifted it. Once for luck, once because she trusted nothing that came to a boil too quickly. Maeve stood on the footstool beneath the good-cup cupboard, eight years old, trusted with porcelain but not boiling water, which felt like a personal insult and a sensible policy at the same time.
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