6S ~ the empty glass.

Her hand shook slightly as she lifted it up to her lips, just a tremble, barely noticeable to anyone who wasn't looking for it. She tilted her head back, closed her eyes, and ... nothing. Empty. Not a drop left; an empty glass. She cursed and slammed it down, the glass making a hollow, empty sound as it hit atop the photograph on the counter, the curve of the glass distorting the faces, blurring the edges, hollowing the feelings. What would they think of me now?