Break like Objects

He told her what he learned about the Japanese. That when something breaks they think it becomes more beautiful, it has a history. Shouldn't they consider themselves in this way?

She said she saw that stupid article floating around, he shouldn't for a second think that he got away with it. And besides, she wasn't Japanese, she was American. She'd never been to Japan, didn't want to have anything to do with Japan. Have you see their television shows? No people in their collective right mind create something like that.

He had seen the article, yes. But that didn't mean that he didn't agree with it, that it wasn't true.

She said, OK, if she were to go along with this, what did he have in mind.

They mend it with gold, he told her.

Gold mends objects, not people.

Then what about jewelry.

This is not the time for fucking jokes.

Sorry.

She said no. She said if their relationship were a plate or bowl, some sort of vase, then maybe. Maybe they could put the pieces back together with gold and it would be more beautiful than they could ever have imagined. But they weren't. And gold is malleable. And people are not objects, however they may break like them.

He nodded in silence and left. He never told her of the locket he'd had made, small and gold, placed in a red velvet box, wrapped by him, resting in his coat pocket.