The Locket Closes
07/21/2045 “This is all I have… I have nothing else. Just take it... Please.” The Tinker evaluates the man in front of his counter. A sandy shemagh concealing the man’s face, the Tinker’s brow furrows. The man’s voice sounded vaguely familiar, like a lost memory of a friend in another life. The man was old, that much the Tinker could deduct from the man’s posture and voice. His arm outstretched, the man held out a small heart shaped locket. The Tinker stared at it for a moment as revelation set in.