Work in Progress

There was a bundle on the bench up against the window. She could see where his head had made an impression on it as he slept, using it as a pillow. There was nothing else of him left in that place, not that it was a place anyway, like a room in a house or a corner of a field. It was just a moving point on a railway line. Scarlet picked up the bundle and unrolled it, rolling it up again as she did so. As she found it, she read it like a scroll, all the stains and wear and tear of the life that had made it passed under her hands. As she unrolled it and rolled it again, she turned it inside out so the end that had been outside was now on the inside. As the end that had been innermost came into her hands, a small amulet attached to a silver chain, fell on to the bench. At first, she thought it was a claw or a bird’s talon. Then as she picked it up, she saw it was a beautiful, translucent piece of glass, a golden tawny color, tinged at the end in a dark, blood red.