The Earthenware Jug

The jug sat at the window. It was an old earthenware jug, cracked and chipped. It was a jug that had been used many times over the years. It had been handles with care, accidentally been knocked of tables, and held many other thing besides water but always at the end of the day it had been filled with water and held with loving hands, a silent guest. But not anymore. It had been many years since it had last been held, a layer of dust covered it and moss had grown inside it. It stood in the windowsill now, waiting for the day it would once again be held.