I wrote this currently-untitled piece as part of the LitFest workshop run by Nik Perring. We were asked to make a list of ‘What If’s and this piece came from “what if your heart could shatter and you were aware of it” – the characters themselves and their story have been sitting on an untouched Note in my phone for about three months, so this was a nice starting point.

She was not shocked when her heart splintered and broke into shards like a dropped glass on tiled floor. In all honesty, she’d been expecting it. What did surprise her was how painful it was to say goodbye afterwards. To rise from her seat and leave pieces of herself scattered on the surface of the table, the chair, the floor; even in her mostly empty coffee cup.

Leaving… shrugging on her coat and rummaging through her pockets and bag, looking for the phone she knew was in the back pocket of her jeans… it was delaying the inevitable. It was physically painful, like those little bits of her heart had embedded themselves in her skin like shrapnel. 

There was a wide, gaping hole in her chest and she didn’t know how her body hadn’t caved in yet. 

She shook herself, taking a deep, steeling breath before turning and showing herself out. Then closing the door behind her with a click – she would’ve laughed at how anticlimactic the sound was. She let herself drop then, sag back against the door and let out a single, harsh, jagged sob before pulling herself together and walking down the driveway. Not looking back. Leaving. For good. Leaving behind the remnants of her heart with the only person who had ever truly owned it.