Fiber of My Being

Pieces Fall Into Place

"Every part of me belongs to you. Forever. I am anywhere I want with you." August speaks through a loud microphone, connected to several booming speakers. He takes a quiet step back, turning just a bit to see the woman standing beside him. He smiles, his eyes just as wide and bright as the first time he met her. Dressed in a white, traditional dress, she stood, smiling ear to ear. It didn't matter how hurt she had been in the past, this was all she had ever wanted, looking at the man across from herself.
Among every appreciated word he spoke, she heard her new name, "Wendy Sinclair, you are every part of me." He smiled, "Nothing you do isn't loved. You are love." With that, the other man, generally unnoticed, stood between them, announced them married. Both figures kissed, an unforgiving tango was beginning to form. Shouting and murmurs raised upon the crowd in the distance. Letting go of the kiss, the two put their held hands together and shouted.

Life had been unforgiving since then, August's passing meant more than a loss in the Earth. "Every part of me belongs to you." Couldn't have been closer to the truth. A piece of Wendy had gone missing. Anger and sadness were left in the holes of her spongy heart. She looked to find happiness, only to be reminded of the things she had lost. She lost him, she thought, "I lost the pieces of myself." Grabbing a big, crinkly, white, shopping bag, pulling out a prepackaged brick of clay.
As her anger grew, she unknowingly grabbed more and more bricks of clay, smoothing the brown hard substance to form an upright chest. Wendy's furrowed brows were but an indicator of how she was feeling, even better what her thoughts were. All she had been good at was losing things. Why did she think maybe it would change? A simple silver-lined, polished, shining ring was supposed to change everything. The way Wendy Sinclair lived. Based on non-facts, but a suspicion. She was simply cursed to lose everything she had ever loved. Her childhood dream, to get married had not fulfilled every hope and promise it had said on the tin. She nearly died with guilt upon that realization. She was not happy, she simply never could be. Her long, pale fingers stretched across the clay neck she was forming. She stopped for a second, observing the torso and mannequin-like posture she had created. She gasped. A perfect lover, something she can't lose. Wendy continued, feeling an invisible connection between her and the batch of tan-skinned fake flesh in front of her. She dipped her hands into the bowl of water, beginning to smooth out the chest, wanting it to resemble a 'perfect' creature. Her fingers floated around the room, excitement filling her body. She had finally found something she thought impossible to lose. "You're lovely." She whispered her hands on the small of the clay creature's back. She began forming a face. She was careful to not let it resemble her dear August. A wide but technically small nose appeared on the 'being's clay face. She smoothed it out, then creating two small holes for eyes, deep depressions in the clay where the 'windows to the soul' would lie. She dipped her fingers in the water once more, using two of said fingers to smooth it out, a wet dirt texture appearing there. She began thinking about August's eyes as she created some on the other's face. She rolled a piece of clay in between her pale, clay-colored fingers. August's eyes were nothing like she had ever seen before, a brown but somehow icy color there. Not a single being on this earth ever really deserved the beauty of August Sinclair.
She, Wendy, looked up at her creation. A human, a man. Beautiful, with a face and arms. Her ideal man, something wrong. He wasn't finished, her brown eyes racing around to find what was missing. Hair, nails, eyelashes. Picking up her feet, she decided it would be best to find them. He needed to be real, something she could love. If he loved her, maybe she could dig herself out of the pit August had left her in.