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Weekly Contest #189
I killed the man who loved me. He found me when I was hope and ash, and with careful fingers he scooped me up and took me home. Day by day he pushed me back together, forcing each splintering piece of dust into the mould I am today with the heat of his palms until I glistened. A diamond. He bought me one when I was twenty-four, young enough to sparkle and old enough to be cut just right. Fine lines and edges that catch the sunlight. White teeth shine just as tears do, smiles and sadness shimmering under the stars night after night, year afte...
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