The first item in the box from your last time together is her V-necked cardigan the color of frost, tossed into the bottom to wither and to be forgotten. The second piece: a teal-green beanie. Warm. Wool. Waterproof. The third and last item in the box is a coin. A dirty old Franc. The one that has the bust of Napoleon embossed on either side. The grime of the past, enshrouded in silver. Outside: a wintery blue sky. All colors blended into white, in a singular fashion. White on white on white. Would she have taken the cardigan or the beanie? Your order of memories is all jumbled up, scattered in a fit of yearning. You glance out the window. Imagine yourself out there, walking alongside her. Your boots sinking into the snow, becoming one with her footsteps. One step after the other. Eyes fixed forward.
Sarp Sozdinler has been published in
Electric Literature, Kenyon Review, Shenandoah, Wigleaf, Flash Frog, Fractured Lit, and
Pithead Chapel, among other journals. His work has been selected or nominated for anthologies including the Pushcart Prize, Best Small Fictions, and Best Microfiction. He edits the literary journal
The Bulb Region.
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