Warren Higginbothan II
Stories (1/0)
The Trinket
“It was Jenny who gave it to me, this little thing, this…What a silly thing to give someone. I wanted to melt it down with the rest of my scrap to make more rounds, but she told me to keep it safe. She said people would give each other these things, these trinkets, as a sign of affection. A bunch of shapes and loops of shinny metals and rocks meant you cared for someone. Jenny had always brought us back things She found scavenging in the city. Mostly scrap metal and a boot hear and there, she said that whenever I look at it I should think of her. What good is a shiny pebble when thirst is on your lips? When another moment of hunger is inching its way into your stomach. But that was so long ago, before the reign. She never did tell me what it was called.” Worth held the trinket in the air, it twisted itself back-and-forth with his hands. “I mean why give me something so useless the bonds to this is so weak I couldn’t even choke someone with this.” He put it back in the breast pocket of his vest. I could tell he wanted to go on about how silly the trinket was but, the smell of cooked meat filled the air, we knew we were getting closer.
By Warren Higginbothan II3 years ago in Fiction