skywisherr
There I stood waiting for the man to come back with her parting gift. And suddenly it was there, sitting in my hand. It was diamond shaped and smooth, it's worth echoing in small bolts of light brightly off every surface. It seemed to bathe in the sun, casting light shadows along the ceiling. Gorgeous and from a distant time, it rolled across my palm towards me, stopping right on the edge as if it knew. I clasped my hand tightly, my throat battling the sour demon lump that had taken residence there.
A single earring. My grandmother's last gift to me.
"Thank you," I said, my voice cracking mid-whisper. A clock tolled. I left the shop.
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handclockticksittingdiamondsunbattlinglumpthroatthankvoicecrackingwhispertolledgiftlight