The hardest part of putting something back together is the beginning. In this case, a shattered lamp, I had swept up all of the pieces, and I was going to fix it. However, superglue in hand, when I looked at all of the pieces in the pile, I didn’t know how to begin. Nonetheless, determined, I started to carefully pick through the pile, looking for pieces that went together, mindful of the sharp edges.

This particular lamp had been sitting on the in table in my living room for as long as I could remember. I remember learning to read by its light, struggling through Danny the Dinosaur. It was a pretty lamp, a light blue color, with gold leaf painted on in stripes. It probably won’t be as pretty when I’m done.

My mom threw it at my Dad’s head today. Divorce. What an ugly word. Before a couple months ago, I never would have thought that my parents of all people would get a divorce. I always thought my parents were so happy. Shows how much I knew.

It takes me almost two hours to finish putting the lamp back together. It is no longer a thing of beauty, cracks obvious throughout the whole thing. But it works, so I have fixed it. At the moment, being able to fix anything is more than worth the time and effort.

Authors Note: Hello! Just something written on the spur of the moment. My parents are not divorced, so I don’t speak from experience, but this is part of a series of oneshots I’m working on, trying to get inside various character’s heads, in situations I’ve never been in. Please tell me how I did! All reviews would be greatly appreciated.