Melissa Sheets

Maria Arkady

The thin cord that held sixty-seven warm pearls the size of peas around her neck suddenly felt suffocating. She reached up and began pressing each smooth ball between her thumb and pointer finger, moving them through her fingers counting them as she had so many times for comfort. The comfort had expired and all that remained was the choking feeling of memories. When her fingers reached the small silver clasp she yanked hard. The string snapped and pearls popped around her feet, bouncing across the marble floor of her Manhattan apartment. As the clattering pearls found crevices in which to settle, one of the tiny white balls rolled along the mahogany baseboard. She watched through tear filled eyes as the last dancing bead moved towards a brass heating vent and disappeared with a silent small thud into the black spaces between the brass bars.