He stood quietly, wind ruffling his hair, and watched her crush the talisman to powder. The crunch of it under her boot was unnaturally loud, and this deserted corner at the edge of the city felt like the ends of the earth.
“You’re that sure.”
She didn’t even spare him a glance. Her gaze was intent on the sparkling dust on the concrete, and a deep satisfaction showed on her face. She spotted a thumbnail-sized fragment that had escaped destruction and hastened to remedy the situation, grinding it under her heel until what was left was lifted by the wind and blown away.
His hand lifted involuntarily to his own talisman, reassuringly safe and whole in his hip pocket. “You’ll never be able to go back.” He knew that she knew, that it was the whole point of the thing, but the words spilled out all the same.
She lifted her eyes to his, and they sparkled with an honest delight that he hadn’t seen in years. “Never.” Inexplicably, she gurgled a laugh, grabbed his hand, and pulled him off toward the city.
Welcome to this week’s Trifecta Writing Challenge! This week called for 33 to 333 words on the third definition of the word CRUSH (verb):
1a : to squeeze or force by pressure so as to alter or destroy structure <crush grapes>
b : to squeeze together into a mass
2 : hug, embrace
3 : to reduce to particles by pounding or grinding <crush rock>
Thanks for reading!