Her face annoyed me.
It was an exceptionally pretty face.
It had a remarkable quality of joy or despair or mischief or fey magnetism.
It annoyed me because practically every time she was around
I looked at her and smiled
and I was reasonably sure that this made me look like an idiot.
She was laboriously sculpting a rectangle of aluminum foil
into the shape of a heart
and though her wedding ring was on her hand
and I was sure her masterpiece was not meant for me,
it was easy to daydream.
When she finished she attempted to give the heart to one of her friends,
but her gift was refused with a wry observation that all another heart would do is break.
I said,
“Well a normal heart is useless, everyone knows that. But a metal heart is ductile. Malleable. Catches the light beautifully. Does not wither if touched by hands or time.”
I was unsure if anyone was listening to me
and I was afraid that I would continue talking
but I managed to shut up and after a few moments
she handed the heart to me.
I thanked her and immediately walked to the back room.
I put it into my jacket and shivered.
As the chill passed I rubbed the gooseflesh from my arms and returned to work.
When I got home I tossed my jacket down and kicked off my shoes. I took the damned heart out and it was cool as I delicately pressed it against my cheek and then smoothed out a few creases. I lit a candle and killed the lights and watched the flame flicker for a few moments. I blew the candle out and put the treasure on top of my dresser- a thin metal heart for a thin metal man.
It was an exceptionally pretty face.
It had a remarkable quality of joy or despair or mischief or fey magnetism.
It annoyed me because practically every time she was around
I looked at her and smiled
and I was reasonably sure that this made me look like an idiot.
She was laboriously sculpting a rectangle of aluminum foil
into the shape of a heart
and though her wedding ring was on her hand
and I was sure her masterpiece was not meant for me,
it was easy to daydream.
When she finished she attempted to give the heart to one of her friends,
but her gift was refused with a wry observation that all another heart would do is break.
I said,
“Well a normal heart is useless, everyone knows that. But a metal heart is ductile. Malleable. Catches the light beautifully. Does not wither if touched by hands or time.”
I was unsure if anyone was listening to me
and I was afraid that I would continue talking
but I managed to shut up and after a few moments
she handed the heart to me.
I thanked her and immediately walked to the back room.
I put it into my jacket and shivered.
As the chill passed I rubbed the gooseflesh from my arms and returned to work.
When I got home I tossed my jacket down and kicked off my shoes. I took the damned heart out and it was cool as I delicately pressed it against my cheek and then smoothed out a few creases. I lit a candle and killed the lights and watched the flame flicker for a few moments. I blew the candle out and put the treasure on top of my dresser- a thin metal heart for a thin metal man.
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