Steel dragons. As dead as the relationship that I called marriage. As cold as the man I called husband.
Everything unwanted should be recycled, he always said. So everyday, every moment, I strived for perfection. Always afraid that if I let up for even a moment, then I would be unwanted, discarded. Just someone to be recycled.
Reused. Refused. Recycled.
The security tapes and backup have been deleted. I always told him not to use birthdays as passwords. The man was too arrogant to listen. He never did understand technology. Never understood that the cameras recording the employee movements, recorded his movements too. Never understood the concept of remote monitoring.
In the forge, the furnace simmers leaving no evidence of its greed and rage. No bones. No ashes. No evidence of sweaty undulating bodies. No evidence of blood soaked steel.
Everything unwanted should be recycled.
Emotions recycled.
Karma. The ultimate recycle.
In response to the 140th Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers challenge based on a photo provided by Enisa.
Great take. Loved the last line.
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Thank you. Appreciate the appreciation.
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Well, technically, he’s destroyed, not recycled, unless she plans on doing something with the ashes. Got his just desserts, though.
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I was thinking more in terms of karmic recycling. One birth to the next types.
The wording were more of a poetic license rather than logic I suppose.
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I guess I was being too literal. Sorry about that.
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Thank you for reading and taking the time to comment. It’s important to understand how ones writing is perceived. Much appreciated.
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She obviously got tired of trying to constantly please her husband. I don’t blame her. Great story!
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Thank you for the intriguing prompt
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My pleasure!
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Sounds like he deserved it.
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Well done! I liked this piece. : )
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Thank you very much.
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Cycles of Karma just turn round and round, not stopping or waiting for anyone. Good for her this time.
Very offbeat take on the prompt!
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Glad you liked it. Thank you.
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