This untitled thing still needs to be tinkered with a bit (oh yeah, I have delusions of grammar all right) but I wanted to post it anyway.
That is one ugly saucer, Margaret thought as she picked up the old piece of pottery from the table. As saucers go, it wasn’t even really, well, round. As she turned it over in her hands, she could see it was only about six inches across at the widest part of the rim and about and inch and a half deep. Its plain brown clay surface was slightly pitted in places, except where it fit snugly in her hands. There, the surface was worn smooth from years of handling.
Margaret carried her find to the cash box. She hoped the people were willing to let the thing go for cheap.
“I’ll give you a nickel for this.”
That afternoon, the saucer was in its new place on the floor next to a blue, fish shaped bowl filled with kibble. Buttons, Margaret’s seventeen year old white Persian, didn’t seem to care how ugly the thing was as long as it was full of water.
In the weeks that followed, Buttons began acting like a much younger feline. Her once thick fur filled out again and her gold eyes sparkled. She became death on four paws to the dust bunnies hiding under the sofa. One morning, Margaret even caught her chasing butterflies out in the garden. Buttons had jumped two feet in the air after a particularly huge swallowtail and the dear old thing hadn’t been able to do that in years.
As she watched the acrobatics in the garden, Margaret wondered what had gotten into the old cat. She hadn’t changed Buttons’ food or introduced any new vitamins. Nothing, as far as she could figure, was any different. More than once, she caught herself wishing she could have a little bit of it of whatever it was.
And that is how the Grail, when its last protector died at the age of a hundred and fourteen, came to reside at 1475 Anderson Way.