(My second piece as part of The Rose Metal Press Field Guide to Writing Flash Fiction…
by Tara L Masih)
I loved that necklace. It was my “go-to” item of clothing when I had a date or an important meeting, or when I just wanted to cheer myself up with a bit of bling. It had once belonged to my great-grandmother. She had left it to me in her will, only, at the time, nobody could actually find it.
Months after her death my grandmother found a receipt tucked in the pocket of a coat. Turned out the necklace had been sent in for repairs the day my great-grandmother had died. Funnily enough, it seemed it had been a loose clasp then that needed fixing, and a loose clasp again now.
I’d been meaning to take it in for months, but I just hadn’t had the time. Who does when they’re planning a wedding, settling into a new job, moving houses and dealing with three sisters who couldn’t get their own love-lives straight yet thought they got to have a say in yours.
The necklace just kept getting put on the back burner. I was just finishing up my lunch meeting when the clasp finally gave out, the pearls sliding down to clatter noisily against my plate.
As I had waited outside the restaurant for a taxi, I noticed a jewelry store across the street. It was one of those old businesses that had been there since before the turn of the century, the signage fading and the paint peeling. The display cases in the window held pieces that looked just as old as my treasured piece, and thus I deemed it a perfect place to have my necklace repaired.
A few minutes later I was stuffing the collection receipt into my handbag as I crossed the road again ready to catch a cab. Only, the cab ended up catching me.
As I said, the necklace had been my favourite pieces of clothing, I loved it, I just never thought I’d be buried in it just yet.