Life and Death {Enoch O'Connor}

5

Cradled in a bed of moss, the heart sat still and lifeless. A few days old now, it's vibrant red color faded slightly to a greying pink.

Enoch stared at the heart, which he'd kept secretly contained in his tin lunch box. He didn't know what he intended to do with it, only that he couldn't part with it, no matter what his parents said.

With a sigh, he closed the box, making sure it was properly latched. Carrying it with the handle, he marched out of his bedroom to find one of his parents.

He found his mother in the lounge listening to a radio program as Lucille slept. The little girl's dark curls splayed out on her mother's chest, her head rising and falling slightly with every breath their mom took. But she remained in a peaceful slumber, her thumb still in her mouth.

"Mum?" Enoch poked his head in the room.

"Shh," she immediately hushed him, pointing to his sleeping sister.

"I'm going out to play," he informed her, lowering his voice a bit.

His mother glanced at the clock, then nodded, "Be back before sundown, please."

Once outside, he started making his way down the street.

His neighborhood was alive with activity on the sunny Saturday. Couples strolled down the sidewalk with babies in carriages or dogs on leads. Two little girls skipped rope in their driveway. A game of football had broken out in the street between a group of older boys.

The game looked like fun but Enoch had more important things on his mind. He gripped the handle of his lunch box tighter, trying not to jostle it around too much. It was toting precious cargo.

The activity of the neighbors faded gradually as he strayed from the comfort of his street.

He stood at the edge of the forest, the trees shadowing him from the sun the burned bright over the rest of the village. Without a second thought, he headed under the canopy and deeper into the darkness.

Stepping over roots and weaving though brush and trees, he began his usual scan of the forest floor. There were plenty of stick, dead leaves, and patched of moss but nothing yet that caught his eye

His parents had told him to stay away from dead animals but he knew he couldn't. He was too intrigued by them, his fascination only fueled by the heart that remained in the box he carried. All he wanted was to find more and build up his collection again. But this time, he'd know better than to keep it in his bedroom - or in his house al all. He'd find a hiding spot. Somewhere out here in the woods where he could bury his findings to keep them safe and secret.

Every step he took was slow and cautious, not wanting to overlook any inch of the ground in case something showed up. Forests were filled with life which meant there was also plenty of death. Things changed over time - by the year, by the day, by the minute - so there was always something new to discover.

After a good amount of time searching - he'd lost track of the minutes during his intense focus - he finally located something lying in the dirt. With its brown skin and dark speckles, he almost hasn't seen it, camouflaged in its natural surroundings.

He picked up the little newt, laying it in his palm. It was still a bit slimy but dead, he confirmed. With a satisfied grin, he placed the lifeless newt beside the heart in his lunch box.