Purge

-As I lift the box, the base turns to liquid in my hand, seeping through my fingers and before I can brace the contents spill onto the ground. Ceramic hits the rough concrete floor, covering it in green and rust and yellow shards. A blue eye gazes back at me, detached from it's skull and I run my hand across the surface littered with shards until blood prickles my palm. Everything is gone, broken, worthless. The for sale sign is already up but I can't bear to leave, to walk away with whispers of you tracing lines through the cool winter air.
I turn to the box, move to crumple it but hit hard edges. Inside, one boxed mug, glistening amber, a hint of a smile and a sparkle in two deep set eyes. A note is tied carefully with twine so the box edges remain crisp and intact.
'For Jules, for whatever you might need, whenever you might need it. You'll find it when the time is right. Don't accept less than...'. You always found a way to make things right, to reach through time and squeeze my shoulder.
Light trickles through the brick thin window. I open the garage door, let the last wisp of sun warm my skin. I lift the sign, white wood blood soaked and tear it from the ground, toss it into the breeze and let the whispers of you overwhelm me. I am home.