by Zev Gold

To his deep dismay, it was over as soon as it began. Shattered into a million pieces on the ground, some shards kicked around for good measure. The churning in the pit of his stomach served as a reminder of his folly. A constant reminder. Always present. Whispering into his ear how he had let his most treasured possession fall.

He thought back on all the moments. He had once held them up as a talisman. He wore them with pride. He wore them on his heart. He could no longer do so; his heart could not bear the weight. Not in the aftermath of the abrupt end of his illusion. His delusion. Scattered everywhere. Memories sharp as broken glass lay haphazard on the ground. He had to be careful where he stepped, what he thought, what he felt. 

There was nothing more he could do. He got to his knees. Bleeding from the shards in his legs, he began to pick up the scattered remains, carefully collecting each one. He arrayed them like a puzzle and mulled his options. With bravery he had not before known he revived the broken vessel. Gold sinew where cracks once were, remade from the wreckage, more beautiful than before. 

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