The shattered shard glistened in the light as they clanked together to create an uneven harmony.
Beautiful and deadly.
Their sharp corners lay untouched as they rested in the corner of the door way; too high for someone to touch, but low enough that they could be admired.
The reflection of light bounced over the room with the sparkle of a rainbow.
So broken but perfect in their new shape.
An old shattered mirror, now a new wind chime.
A work of many hours slowly deliberating idea after idea of what can be created with what once was not worth it in someone’s eyes.
A habit of hers that she never let go.
No, not when she was young as she worked to turn the neighbour’s crushed flower beds into a frame of flower petals beautifully preserved to create something new.
And not even when older when she got her hands on the more deadlier broken items that people turned their eyes away from.
Now if only she could do the same for her self.
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