Thoughts Left Behind

Broken Hearts (General Fiction)

*General Fiction*

"I accept dollars, euros, Sterling silver, broken hearts, and secrets."

I peered at the man in front of me. He approached me because he needed a bit of luck in his life for once.

He nodded and sifted through his pockets, searching for the sum I required.

"Ah, uhm..." he trailed off, patting his pockets once more just to make sure he hadn't missed any dollars in his search.

I waited patiently as this happened many times prior. Customers find me on a whim, desperate for my services without even knowing it yet.

"It appears all I can give in return is this," he placed a small bag on the counter. I knew what it was so out of sympathy towards the man I didn't open it in front of him to check. I knew how painful that could be.

"Thank you, sir. This is perfect," my time was soft, soothing. A tone I frequently found myself using when nearing the end of a transaction.

He took a deep, shuddering breath, gathering what he could in his lungs and letting it go. An obvious weight was lifted from his shoulders.

A tired but relieved smile spread across his face and he turned to leave.

"Sir, wait! I must warn you," I called after him. He turned to me, one hand resting on the door while the other clutched the bottle he had just purchased.

"Once you step out that door there is no hope of regaining what you have given me. It's not too late to turn back now," I recited the same words I told all of my customers.

He stared at the bag he had given as payment blankly, not a single emotion flitting across his face.

"I never want that thing back, ever."

I watched him go. Knowing how this would end, knowing he'd never set foot in my shop again. No one ever did.

I flipped the sign on the door and locked it, preparing for the end of the day.

The pouch on the counter called to my attention. I sighed and opened it to see the glittering fragments.

Carefully I tipped the bag, inspecting each shard as it slipped onto the counter. They glittered like frozen tear drops in the light of my shop.

My chest clenched at the number of small pieces. Whoever she was, he had loved her dearly. I had never seen a heart so broken.

I pulled out a small tray to place the shards on before walking to the back room. Jars of swirling secrets lined the shelves, some dark, some light.

The room had cubbies along each wall, most filled with similar looking shards differing in colour.

There was an empty cubby in the far corner. I knelt and carefully set the tray down inside.

My desk lamp shone on my current project, a turquoise broken heart I'd been reconstructing. I turned to it and sat down, getting back to work.

That's what I do. I fix problems and in return I receive money, secrets, or broken hearts in return.

I piece together those broken hearts, the secrets keeping me company, and give them to those that need them.

I do this for them because there was no one to do it for me.

*******
So what did you think? This one was a lot of fun and I have so many other little facts about this world I could add. Maybe I'll make another entry where she explains the difference between the colours of the broken hearts. ;)))

Let me know what you think. Oh! And if you find any interesting pics you want me to write a story about send them my way, they'll find their way to this collection.

Thanks a bunch!

Ciao