The End of the Circle

She turned to the gift.  It sat on the stained laminate table where every night for a lifetime she’d set a light supper for family.  Cold cuts, cheese, and sliced bread for sandwiches.  A little mustard and mayo.  Old Spice still lingered in the air and suddenly it was all around her: the past, coming in waves and waves as tears rolled down her cheeks.  I need to leave, she thought, and never return.  The gift would stay where it should, in the past with all those hurt feelings and stubborn silences.  But the periwinkle ribbon was pretty and just the color of Jim’s eyes and so she removed it from the present and tucked it into her purse. 


7 thoughts on “The End of the Circle

  1. I like random slices. This could live on its own. In fact, that might be a good way to go about writing: approach each paragraph as if it was going to be shoved into a cage and abused by the authorities while its parent gets arraigned and deported. The world is a vampire, as Billy Corgan says. We must prepare our children accordingly.

    Liked by 1 person

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