I browsed the rack of photos and flicked through the plastic wallets for something suitable. Perhaps a meaningful word this time? The end of a relationship should be marked in some way.

“See anything you like?” he asked. I caught his eye—bright blue, long, dark lashes.

“Not today, thanks.”

Jenny Logan lives in Edinburgh. She has stories selected for Dark Rose Press anthologies and is featured in Friday Flash Fiction. Jenny enjoys watching grand sumo and cross stitches mini-masterpieces.