Red Ribbon by Erin Schallmoser
A young woman entered the shop. The shopkeeper, a tired bored looking man, didn’t bother looking up. It was a new day, but neither of them felt that way. The young woman wanted to end things with her lover, but could never find the words. The shopkeeper wanted to end things with his lover, but could not, out of a sense of duty. It was a bright day, but neither of them felt that way. The young woman was browsing and the shopkeeper didn’t bother looking up from his paperwork. The young woman was looking for glitter and red ribbon. The young woman was tired and bored with her lover, but could not find the words to end things. The young woman was browsing and the day was new and bright. The shopkeeper didn’t bother looking up. The shopkeeper was tired and bored with his lover, but could not end things, out of a sense of duty. Things, bright glitter things, entered the shop, new things. The young woman was not browsing. Out of a sense of duty, the shopkeeper was looking up. The young woman was bright red ribbon. The young woman didn’t want things to end that way.
Erin Schallmoser (she/her) lives in Bellingham, WA, and delights in moss, slugs, stones, wildflowers, small birds, and the moon, when she can see it. She’s also a poetry/prose editor and staff contributor at The Aurora Journal and is still figuring out Twitter @dialogofadream. You can read more at erinschallmoser.com/.