Ficlets

Deaths Scent

He opens the jewelery box, inside the objects vary. He knows all of them very well- he has visited this box numerous times.

He pulls a piece of cloth from underneath a necklace and ring, it belonged to a little girl. He brings it to his nose and smells deeply, the scent of lilacs is still light on the fabric. He runs his fingers over it remembering her auburn hair, deep blue eyes. Remembering how she hid in the bathtub sobbing.

He places the fabric gingerly down and reaches towards the ring. Size 7, with interlocking sterling silver hoops. Simple. He remembers how she played with her ring, she was nervous. He doesn’t remember what she looks like, he remembers the plastic that he wrapped around her face.

These objects of his-his treasure. He places the ring down. He picks up a napkin that is folded neatly next to him and opens it. Inside a new treasure, an earring. He places it ontop of the other things, and admires how well it matches.

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