Knowing, Wanting, Needing
He came in with a haunted look in his eyes. A fine suit hung from his frame, slightly threadbare but still lending an air of battered elegance. His gaze caught on the shelves full of jars, clinking gently against each other despite the utter absence of any breeze.
Each seemed to be full of smoke, until you approached them and looked deep: then you saw a snatched moment from within.
A torn white dress. A snapped scarlet thread. A burned-out match.
I broke him out of the reverie as gently as I could.
"Can I help you?"
He started, as all did when they were too close to letting go of this reality.
"Yes, um, I want to trade for a new beginning to my story."
I nodded. Many came to me like this, said just that.
"What about yours?"
He held out his own jar, with a sudden violence, almost thrusting it at me.
"I don't want it. It's not how I thought it would go."
I took it, reverently, letting the fractured glass repair itself in my hands.
"I can't take it from you, you know. But I can give you another."
No sequels yet. Why not write one?
Comments (1 so far!)
Nice follow up, a good match to Abby's start. I think of you so much as the sci-fi guy that I sometimes forget that I've seen a good bit of tenderness from you as well. Nice job!
- #3761 Posted 1 year ago
Inspired by (sequel to):
Start with a knife, a tree, a candle, a corpse. Start with a dead bird and its dead feathers spread …Manufacturing Inspiration
- Published 1 year ago and featured 1 year ago.
- Story viewed 8 times and rated 0 times.
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