RUT by James Edwards (1st Place, Flash May26)

Long after the tears had dried, and hurtful words lost their sting, there was still work to do. The division of a coexistence was no easy task.

They had already sorted through the majority, possessions they had shared, cherished, and now were destined to lose. Then they got to the box.

They had bought it together during a holiday in the highlands. Near the cottage where they were staying was a little antique shop. Although she could no longer remember why, the idea of going in had seemed funny, almost ironic to them. But on the last day they ventured inside.  

There it was. Polished mahogany, adorned with two stags locked together in battle, immortalised in gold. A totally extravagant and unnecessary purchase, but, riding the exuberant wave of young love, they had to have it. It was their treasure.

But now, for one of them at least, they were destined to part ways.

Exhausted from the days toil, sorting equal stacks of cd’s, books, and memories, she gave into weakness, saying, “you take it.”

Of course, there was a back and forth of protestation, but in the end, Jason begrudgingly gave way, and left, for the last time, with his share of their combined lives.

Of all the reasons to end a relationship, somehow, falling out of love seemed the cruellest.

*

Over the years, Emily set about rediscovering herself, and started amassing new additions into her life – house plants, bunk beds, photos, a ring.

But a phone call out of the blue dragged her from her new world, back to the past.

An officer was sympathetically informing her of Jason’s accidental overdose, stating that she was still down as his next of kin. Although they told her it wasn’t necessary to do so, Emily arranged to go around to the flat with them, a sense of duty told her she must.

*

Goose pimples crawled over her skin as she carefully crept into the room. Black mould clung to walls peppered with holes, where various pipes and wires had been ripped out. It was dark, dingy, devoid of life; the only recognisable furniture, a bare mattress on the floor, stained and broken.  

Then something caught her eye. An object wedged between the mattress and the wall, wrapped inside an old, ripped t-shirt. She bent to retrieve it.

Her hands trembled as she carefully revealed what was hidden within. It was the box. Pristine. Just as it had been the day she’d first picked it up off that dusty shelf, what seemed like a lifetime ago. The golden stags still shining brightly. Emily’s legs buckled and she collapsed to the ground. She clutched the box to her chest, breathing in its must, and wept; for a life that was, and for one that could have been.