A collection of very short stories and possibly the occasional poem which I like enough to upload, but not to give a new Movella to.


4. Memory Piece

    I've been trying to clear my jewellery box. It's too full, brimming with plastic beaded bracelets I used to wear when I was little, with cheap freebies from magazines and those souvenir necklaces you buy in museum gift shops. I wanted to clear them out. I forgot about this necklace. I was unprepared for finding it.

   How old was I when I bought it? Eight, nine maybe? You'd have been about ten. We walked into town on our own that day, and though it was only a ten minute walk, we felt proud and grown up,  excited to be out without the adults. I think it must have been summer. I know we stopped for ice cream on the way, but that doesn't mean much. I'm sure we'd have bought ice cream in January. 

   We went to Paperchase first. We always went there, remember? We used to buy stickers, spending hours choosing them. I've still got most of them. They're all stuck in a notebook on a shelf somewhere.

    Next came sweets in the market. You could smell the enticing scent candy floss wafting from the stall across the square. We crammed our pockets with golden brown, melt-in-the-mouth toffees and  fluorescent lemon sherbets that fizzed against your tongue, with refreshers and minstrels,  brightly coloured fruit salads and grey wrapped black jacks. We always bought black jacks, but only because they were cheap. I don't think either of us ever ate one. 

    With purses considerably lighter, we moved on to the joke shop. That's closed now, I think. It's a shame. Deliberating for ages over itching powder and fake spiders, we eventually chose our standard trick - a box of surprisingly convincing fake cigarettes that smoked when you puffed on them. We strutted up and down the street for a while, each of us with one in our mouths, enjoying the looks of suspicious horror on the faces of passers by and trying not to laugh.

    When we were full and sticky fingered and tired, we finished up at Claire's accessories. I winced and covered my ears as I stepped into the shop, blocking out the music, but you only giggled and tapped your foot to the beat. You bought earrings as you always did, and I helped you choose and lamented that my ears were piercing free.  That day, we had more money than usual. So when we saw the friendship necklaces, glittering in a row at one end of the shop, we had to buy them.

   They made a star when you put them together, but pull them apart and one was just a jagged bit of metal, shapeless without its partner. The other one was still pretty, with an imitation gem gleaming in  pride of place in the middle. Like magpies, drawn to the shiny stone, both of us could think only of that half. We argued over it as we walked home in the rain and as we ate and as we went up to bed that night. We agreed you should have it in the end. I think you let me have your refreshers. I know I wouldn't have let you have it for nothing. Friendship only goes so far. 

   I took home the other half of the necklace and wore it for a while, but things like that are easily forgotten. I tucked it away in my jewellery box, only to find it now. I wonder what they did with your half, with all your things, when you were past needing them? I guess most of it they gave away. An old half necklace like that though? They wouldn't know who had the other half. They probably threw it out. It's just my half now, missing the gemstone. It doesn't look like a star on its own.

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...