Reena Wolfe

Relics

Jon grows weary in my thoughts. Now, when I see myself and this locket chained to me, I hate that I am without him. Like everyone else, Jon did not give me this locket. It was always mine, but he was the first to notice it. In a sea of fluorescent color, bold characters vying to stand out against the darkest digital black sky, this locket, he said, was the only thing made of gold.