Each month we hold a writing contest for our members, by our members. Writers are given parameters, such as a word count and/or a prompt. Entries are judged and discussed blindly. For December, writers had to write a 250-word story inspired by an item from Winterfair.
A Winter's Ring
by Thomas Brown
Who am I shopping for? Why am I here, don't know. In the back, he looks smoked to the filter. A tray of rings sits on his table and nothing else.
I tumble into his gravitational orbit and look at his meager offerings.
"Can I try on a ring?" They all look made of a light sandalwood made by many here.
From behind the darkest of glasses, he shakes his head. "No. Have nothing for you."
I don't like his tone. "Yes, you do. That ring there, the really pale one."
"It is for you. Are you certain you want it? It will give you what you need, it will take what it needs. Fair?"
I suddenly have to have the ring. "Yes, of course!"
He holds up my ring, I know it is my ring, and he slides it on. I feel it bite immediately. Pinpricks wrap my finger, like thorns suckling blood from me. I am certain of that.
"It will not come off until you have had your fill. Come see me then, Tabitha. Good day."
I leave, knowing I didn't tell him my name.
Four years later, I return, the ring is onyx color. He sits in the same place. He is young and fresh now.
"I have everything. They are all dead. Get this off me."
He tosses the snips on the table in front of me. "You know how to take it off, always have."
He's right, the metal is cold on my finger.
