Within a shoe box, her entire life was held. No, that’s a lie. It was only the part of her life with him. The part that mattered to her.
She took out the photos, the trinkets, the memories. She smiled at each one; the roller coaster picture, the silly and steamy photo booth strips, the caught off guard shots, and the one of him sleeping peacefully.
She unburied the dried roses and flowers, special occasion cards, doodles, the small gifts. Each one held a special meaning.
Love letters lined the bottom; notebook paper, napkins, all kinds of paper. The folds ironed into the pulp. Her eyes glanced over the forgotten words, resurfacing the pleasures and pains.
She packed it all away, closed the lid, and threw it into the fireplace.
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