4.7

Solipsism
I've felt guilt about breaking your favorite mug for seven years now. I know perhaps you have forgiven me, Karen, but I just wanted you to know that now I am forgiving myself. It was my fault, I suppose, to not listen to you when you warned me about the coffee's temperature. And though I should have inferred the shock to my mouth and mind, I couldn't have prepared myself for the sudden overwhelming taste of your garbage carob coffee. And honestly, it was very kind of you to offer me your actual favorite mug, a gift from your ex (I guess), I can't understand allowing someone else to use such a thing. Put it in a glass case if it's that important to you. Anyway, Karen, I know you've already stopped reading this in a rage, but I wanted you to know I don't feel bad anymore, as of today. I throw off all guilt. There's no reason for me to get so twisted up over something that doesn't even actually affect me. So, thank you, and you're welcome I guess. Here's six bucks for a new mug.