Attachment- Steve Carr

Bio: Steve Carr has had over 370 short stories published internationally in print and online magazines, literary journals, reviews and anthologies since June, 2016. He has been nominated for Pushcart Prize twice. His Twitter is @carrsteven960. His website is https://www.stevecarr960.com/ He is on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/steven.carr.35977

Doris stopped in front of the  plate glass window of The Old Refrain second hand store and gazed at the items on display. Among a collection of junk stood a statue on a wood base. Doris stared at it intently, trying to figure out what it was a statue of. It had normal appearing ceramic arms and hands that reached into the air as if grasping for something, a wire torso that was twisted like a corkscrew, three plaster legs, each shaped like different geometric shapes – a triangle, rectangle and oval – and a wooden head that resembled a walnut. She left the second hand store behind and walked on to the coffee shop, but hard as she tried, she couldn't erase the sculpture from her mind.

She entered the coffee shop, stepped up to the counter, and took her leather change purse out of her pocket.

Carol Depsky turned away from the espresso machine and leaned on the counter. “Russell was in here yesterday afternoon,” she said.

Doris opened the change purse and took out a five dollar bill. “I really don’t care,” she replied nonchalantly. “He couldn’t commit to a relationship and I need something long lasting.” She placed the bill on the counter. “Give me a double latte.”

A few minutes later she carried her drink to a table by the window and sat sipping on the latte while thinking about the object she had seen in the window of the second hand store. When she finished the latte she left the coffee shop,  and went to the second hand store and gazed at the sculpture.

#

Months later, for possibly the thousandth time, Doris walked around the statue that sat on her table. She knew it was only her imagination, but the statue’s head turned, following her movement, and its arms changed position, albeit imperceptibly. 

She walked away from the object and opened the clothes closet door. The aroma of Russell’s cologne that had gotten on his shirts that once hung in the closet remained. She grabbed a blouse and then shut the door harder than she had intended, sending a vibration through the room that shook the statue. Its left hand fell onto the table. She rushed to the table and gingerly picked up the hand and held it between her fingers and stared, dumbfounded, at the small drop of blood on the object’s wrist.

#

A spring breeze that blew in through the open window. Doris flipped through a stack of photographs in a shoe box. She pulled out one of Russell lying in her bed and placed it on the top of other photographs of him; one of him in her kitchen, one of him sitting on the sofa, and more.

“I don’t know why I kept them this long,” she said to the statue that stared at her with a blank expression on its walnut-like face.

She carried the shoe box to the dresser and placed it in the bottom drawer along with figurines wrapped in pink tissue paper given to her by her grandmother. She thought she would one day give them to her own daughter, if she ever had one; a daughter she once hoped to have with Russell. She returned to the statue and gently ran her fingers down its wire torso, smiling as it twisted into a new position.

She picked up the photographs of Russell and tore each one in two and tossed the halves out the window and watched the pieces as they were caught by the breeze and carried out of sight. 

#

Doris stood in front of the window of The Old Refrain second hand store and gazed thoughtfully at the costume jewelry on display. Holding the statue, with her arms wrapped around it, she whispered into the side of its walnut head as if whispering into an ear. She giggled and then went into the store. Ten minutes later she came out and walked to the coffee shop. She placed the statue on a table by the window and then went to the counter.

Carol Depsky turned around from the espresso machine and let out a gasp of surprise. “Doris, I haven’t seen you for such a long time. I thought after what happened with Russell you might have left town.”

“I’ve been very busy,” Doris said. “I’m in a new relationship.” She held up her left hand and wriggled her fourth finger that was adorned with a faux diamond ring.

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Setu, May 2020 :: Flash Fiction 2020