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  ‘An earring?’ Sally screwed up her face. ‘Why just one? They come in pairs. It seems odd. Was your nan only wearing one earring?’ Sally smiled as she lifted her bottle of beer to her mouth to take a sip. But then, noticing that Robert didn’t return her smile, she said: ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound insensitive... It’s just, well, I have this image now of your nan only wearing one earring.’ She stifled a giggle.

  Robert was in no mood for jokes. He felt numb. He had lost his one remaining connection to the girl who had stolen his heart. Until this moment, he never realised how much the earring meant to him. It had been a way of keeping the door open for his soul mate to return to his life, a way of keeping the flame alive.

  Without thinking about it, he stood up. ‘I’m going to look for it,’ he said, gruffly.

  ‘But... it’s dark. Anyway, how do you know you lost it here? When did you last see it?’ Sally frowned.

  ‘This morning,’ he replied. ‘It was in my wallet this morning.’

  ‘It’s too dark to look for it now, wait until tomorrow and I’ll help you look for it,’ said Sally.

  ‘I’ve got a torch,’ he said.

  Robert spent two hours retracing his steps around the park, shining the torch on the ground, all the while knowing that his search was in vain; but he had to try. To give up would be like letting go. He felt like a fool when he thought of the many broken relationships he’d had in the past couple of years all because none of the girls he dated could make him feel the way he’d felt about the girl on the bench. It was like a curse that followed him everywhere, and he could do nothing about it.

  At 3 am he gave up and returned to the tent. Sally was asleep. He made up his mind that he would tell her it wasn’t working out between them. It wouldn’t be fair on her now that he knew he still had feelings for someone else. He’d just be leading her on, knowing that he could never care about her in the same way.

  The next morning, Sally nudged him: ‘Wake up, Rob, we’re going to miss that band you wanted to see.’

  His head felt groggy. ‘What time is it?’

  ‘Late enough. I’ve overslept because those girls in the next tent didn’t shut up until after 2 o’clock. I’m sure they were drunk. They were talking so loud. I’m going to get some breakfast, coming?’

  ‘I’ll follow,’ he said, fully intending to leave the festival and make his way home before Sally got back. He knew it was cowardly, but he couldn’t tell her face to face that he was leaving her. He resolved to send her a text message.

  * * *

  Anne woke up in the tent next door to Robert and Sally. Stretching, she looked over at her friend Susie, who was still asleep. Anne thought of Steve, as she often did each morning. If she hadn’t broken up with Steve, they would have been together at this music festival, but they split two weeks ago. Susie had persuaded her to come to the festival, saying she’d accompany her: ‘It’d be a shame to waste the tickets, and it’ll do you good to get out and forget about him, instead of moping around the house,’ she’d said. Anne wasn’t so sure. Being here brought back memories of the year before, when she’d been at the festival with Steve.

  Sitting up and wriggling out of her sleeping bag, she reached into her handbag and took out her compact mirror. Running her fingers through her dyed black hair, she found herself wondering whether Steve would like it. She shook the thought from her mind, reminding herself that he didn’t matter anymore. A frown creased her brow.

  Susie had convinced her to dye her hair and try a new hairstyle, saying that a change would help her forget Steve. Anne had been living with him for over a year before finding out that he’d been seeing another girl for at least three months. She found a few text messages on his mobile and confronted him about them; he’d walked out the door without saying a word, never looking back, not apologising—leaving her to heal her own wounds and wonder why.

  Anne was still unsure about her new hair colour—whether it suited her or not. Her hair had always been light-brown, and in her 25 years she’d never dyed it before. And she’d always worn her hair long, but now it only reached her shoulders. Shrugging, she put the compact mirror back in her handbag and changed into her jeans and t-shirt. She picked up her bag and sunglasses. Susie somehow slept through all of this. Anne didn’t have the heart to wake her; they’d been up chatting until after 2 am.

  Stepping out of the tent, she knew what she wanted to do. She wanted a portion of chips for breakfast. Last year, she and Steve had shared a portion of chips for breakfast. She still missed him, and found herself wishing he was with her. As a tear threatened to fall from her eye, she put on her sunglasses. A young man walked out of the next tent, she nodded and smiled at him.

  ‘Hello,’ he said. He looked a bit grumpy, annoyed about something. His face was familiar, but she couldn’t place it. Perhaps she’d seen him yesterday when they were setting up their tents. She walked past him quickly before he could say anything else, because his demeanour was quite intimidating, and she felt worried that maybe she and Susie had kept him awake last night when they were laughing and chatting.

  Walking towards the food stalls, she could see a few people milling about, but it was early and none of the bands had started playing, so it was quiet. As she approached a van which had “Fish and Chips” emblazoned in green lettering across the top, she hung her head, feeling a bit glum as she again remembered being here with Steve the year before. Something shiny caught her eye, sticking out from the mud next to the van. Perhaps it’s a pound coin?

  Wondering if she’d be lucky enough to get a free breakfast, she bent down and picked it up, cleaning off the dirt. She was amazed to see, in her hand, an earring, exactly like the one she’d lost a couple of years ago. Steve had given her the pair of emerald earrings after their first date and she’d worn them every day. Gold drop earrings with beautiful green stones, which Steve said matched her eyes. Having a habit of fiddling with her earrings, she often found that she was missing one. Usually she would find it again, somewhere in her house, but she’d lost the emerald earring one lunchtime when she had lunch in a park. After lunch, she’d returned to the office where she worked, and Kelly—her colleague—had asked her why she was only wearing one earring. Anne had rushed back to the park, retracing her footsteps all along the street and through the park, but she never found the earring.

  As she looked at the shiny piece of jewellery in her hand, she wanted to believe that it was the same one she had lost. It wasn’t one of a kind; there were probably thousands of girls who owned the same pair, but she couldn’t help thinking that it was some kind of sign. She’d been thinking of Steve when she found it.

  Anne took a tissue out of her handbag and cleaned the remaining mud off the earring, wishing she’d kept the other one, but she remembered throwing it out not so long ago. As she placed the earring in her purse, she resolved to keep it with her always. It was like a connection to Steve, something to hold onto, to keep the flame alive. Maybe one day we’ll get back together.

  * * *

  Robert walked out of his tent and saw a young girl with very dark, shoulder-length hair, wearing sunglasses standing outside the next-door tent. He remembered Sally complaining that the two girls in that tent had been talking loudly well into the early hours.

  The girl looked at him, nodded and smiled. He said ‘Hello’, to be polite, but his mind was still in shreds about how best to end it with Sally. He was in no mood for small talk with a stranger, and hoped this girl would not try to speak to him. Frowning, he tried his best to look unapproachable.

  As the girl with the dark hair walked past him, he caught a breeze carrying a fresh, floral perfume, that brought with it memories of a warm summer day somewhere back in time, but he couldn’t remember quite where he had smelt that scent before.

  Robert walked away in the opposite direction and took out his mobile phone to text Sally. I’m go
ing home. Don’t try to contact me. It’s over. It’s not you, it’s me. Sorry. Bye.

  After sending the text message, he wondered whether he’d been too blunt. Shrugging, he made his way out of the park, thoughts of the girl on the bench still haunting his mind.

  ***

  About the Author:

  Maria Savva is a novelist and short story writer from the UK. Her novels and stories are inspired by the world around her, containing many true-to-life characters. She writes dramas, about relationships, which cross over various genres from romantic fiction to the paranormal. She began writing her first novel, Coincidences, in 1997, and has since published a further three novels (A Time to Tell, Second Chances, and The Dream), and three collections of short stories (Pieces of a Rainbow, Love and Loyalty (and other Tales) and Fusion). She also co-wrote an online novella on https://www.BestsellerBound.com in 2010, with author Jason McIntyre: Cutting The Fat, (a murder mystery, which revolves around a group of indie writers and their conspiracy to kill an evil book critic).

  Maria lives in London, and is also a qualified lawyer. As well as writing books, she loves to read, and is a reviewer for Bookpleasures.com. She is also a resident author/moderator for https://www.BestsellerBound.com. You can usually find her on Twitter @Maria_Savva. You can learn more about Maria and her writing on her website: https://www.mariasavva.com

  ###

  Minor Details

  by Jaleta Clegg

  Copyright © 2009, first published in Darwin's Evolutions, Vol. 3

  "What do you think?" Mitzi twirled so Lainey could get the full effect of her outfit: stiletto heels, fishnet tights, black leather micro-mini-skirt, and black baby doll tee complete with rhines-tone skull and crossbones on the chest.

  Lainey rolled her eyes and flipped her blond hair over her shoulder. "I said witches, not pi-rate hookers." She set her glossy pink tote bag on the bare plank floor in the middle of Mitzi's attic. Stacks of storage boxes and odd items filled the dusty corners.

  "As if your outfit works," Mitzi said. "Not."

  "It's one hundred percent authentic. I looked it up online." She'd bought it online, too, forty dollars for _Mystica Glamour_. Her dress was slinky black silk, and made her feel like a very sexy witch. "Now be quiet. I have to commune with the cosmic forces of darkness." Lainey tilted her head back, stretched her arms out, closed her eyes, and hummed tunelessly.

  Mitzi crossed her arms and tapped one pointed toe. "My outfit's more fun."

  Something rustled inside Lainey's pink tote. A tiny head with large, buggy eyes and tufted ears popped out.

  "You brought Mr. Numffis?" Mitzi's turn for the eye roll.

  "He's my familiar. Every witch has to have a familiar. Where's yours? On your hairbrush?"

  Mitzi stuck her tongue out. Lainey pretended not to notice, closing her eyes to slits. Her nas-al hum intensified.

  Mr. Numffis jumped from the tote. He sniffed at a stack of dusty boxes and sneezed. Mr. Numffis was supposed to be Mr. Muffins, but no one had checked Lainey's spelling until after the papers were registered. Lainey hated spelling, all those little letters drove her mad.

  "Mr. Numffis is tinkling on my mom's Christmas tree," Mitzi said.

  Lainey broke off humming to giggle. "Bad widdle Mistoe Numffis," she scolded in a high voice. She scooped the dog back into the tote. "Did ums need to tinkoe?"

  "Good little dog," Mitzi said. "We're witches. Aren't we supposed to be evil?"

  Lainey cocked her head, thinking it over. "Very evil."

  Mitzi patted Mr. Numffis. "Then let's get on with it. Let's raise a demon to prove how evil we are, just like in that book you found."

  Lainey nodded, giggles forgotten. "You do the candles. I'll do the pentagram. I'm better at art than you are." She dug a handful of colored chalk from under Mr. Numffis.

  The dog objected by hopping out of the tote to continue his exploration of the attic.

  "Here, keep track of this. We'll need it later." Lainey handed a crumpled sheet of blotchy parchment to Mitzi. "The candles are inside."

  Mitzi unwrapped the candles from the parchment and set it aside. She didn't think to check the document. Lainey assured her she'd used a spell checker on it. They'd both giggled over that one.

  "Are you sure these will work?" Mitzi wrinkled her nose at the pink candles with 'Happy Birthday' stenciled in gold on the side.

  "They were the only ones I could find. When we're real witches we won't have to borrow from our moms for ingredients. Then maybe we can try out the really good spells in the book."

  Mitzi peeled plastic wrapping from the candles.

  Lainey hummed as she drew hearts and flower swirls at each corner of the pentagram sketched on the wooden floor.

  "What did your book say to do now?" Mitzi cradled the pink candles.

  Lainey admired her artwork. "Put one in each star point and light them. Make sure you go coldwise. And make sure you don't step over the line."

  "Coldwise?" Mitzi asked. "Are you sure that's what it said?"

  "Positive," Lainey wiped a smudge of pink chalk from the design. "I read it five times to make sure."

  "Which way is coldwise?" Mitzi squinted at the pentagram.

  Lainey sighed. "Am I the only one who thinks these things through? It's obviously north." Lainey tapped the cover of her ancient book, The Compendium of Spelles. "The North Pole is the coldest place on earth so coldwise means start at the north point of the star and go around the pentagram."

  Mitzi set the candles into little glass holders, setting each on a star point. "Ooo, that pink just matches the chalk hearts."

  "Not very witchy, Mitzi."

  "Sorry."

  "Light the candles, mistress of darkness!" Lainey raised her arms over her head. The cheap costume popped a seam. "It's supposed to do that. It proves I'm channeling the powers of evil." She twisted, squinting at the rip along her side. It was just a little tear. No one would notice.

  Mitzi picked up the box of matches and struck one. Flames blossomed. She held it over the first candle.

  "Oh, wait! I almost forgot the paper!" Lainey moved Mr. Numffis off the crinkled parch-ment then smoothed it over her leg. The signatures looked gruesome. They'd used their own blood to sign it, just like the book said. Tomato juice just wasn't the same.

  "Ready?" Mitzi asked.

  Lainey nodded, her blond hair bouncing.

  Mitzi lit the candle.

  "Oh dark lord, we summon thee," Lainey said. That part she'd made up. She wasn't going to read unless she had to. "Now you say it."

  "Dark lord, we summon thee." Mitzi lit another candle.

  "By all the powers that ebb!" Lainey said loudly.

  "That doesn't sound right." Mitzi dropped the match.

  "Who's the head witch here? Who's idea was this?"

  "Yours, Lainey." Mitzi struck another match and lit the pink birthday candle.

  Lainey held the parchment towards the fluttering candle flames. "We sell our souls to you!"

  Mitzi lit the last candle and stepped back. "Now what?"

  Lainey held the paper. The candles sputtered. Mr. Numffis lifted his leg at the pentagram. Mitzi nudged him aside.

  Nothing happened.

  "We could go to the dance," Mitzi said. "Justin did say he was bringing..."

  "It's working!" Lainey grabbed Mitzi's arm.

  Mist rose in the pentagram, red and white swirls that reeked of peppermint. Both girls backed away. A form materialized in the pentagram. The mist spun, lifting to reveal heavy black boots, topped by baggy red velvet pants.

  "Fat Elvis?" Mitzi whispered. "I didn't think the devil would be so tacky."

  The mist revealed a big belly covered by more red velvet with white fur trim.

  "I didn't think he'd be so fat."

  "I like the belt. I saw one like it in Fashion Mod last month."

  "You did not. Liar."

  "A beard? That is so out. Gross!"

  "And he's old. I thought you said he'd be young a
nd sexy, like in that movie we saw."

  The mist cleared, revealing the apparition in the pentagram.

  "Santa?" Mitzi squinted. "Give me that paper!" She snatched the parchment from Lainey.

  "Michelle," Santa said with a bright smile. "Are you trying for the naughty list this year?"

  "It's Mitzi. And we're both going to be evil witches."

  Santa chuckled. "You'll never make it. You aren't naughty, Michelle, no matter how hard you try. And you, Elaine, you've always been one of my favorites."

  "Lainey, and you know why I changed it. I hate Elaine."

  Santa grinned. "I always enjoyed your letters, when you were young enough to still send them. Dear Satan," he quoted. "Most years we figured out what you were asking for, although that year you asked for a pyno, that was a tough one."

  "I asked for a pony. You left a big, dirty tree. Mother was furious about the mess on her rug."

  "That imitation Persian she's so proud of?" Santa winked.

  "Imitation?" Mitzi lowered the parchment. "O. M. G. She told my mother it was real. She's been bragging about that rug since we moved here."

  "Your mother's been on my naughty list for years." Santa shook his head. "Such a pity."

  "So why are you here?" Lainey asked. "It isn't even close to Christmas."

  "You summoned me," Santa said. "Nice pentagram, by the way. I really like the little hearts, so much better than the usual evil markings."

  "We didn't summon you," Lainey tossed her hair. "We summoned Satan, Lord of Evil."

  "No, we didn't." Mitzi read from the parchment. "We summon thee, Santa, Lord of Elvi. You said you checked this."

  Santa reached for the parchment. "I believe you both sold your souls to me. It's in writing, signed in blood. Binding by every rule. I hope you aren't too set on being naughty, because I can't have that."