“What is that you desire?” she asked.
The bowl said nothing. Instead, it allowed the light to hit its surface- glinting at its beholder; allowing her to see her porcelain reflection on its cracked and already broken skin.
What is that you desire?
She sighed. Her eyes looked through the bowl’s chalky glaze, lost in its ancient patterns. “I already find it futile to dream of changing the past.”
I also find it impossible to put back the pieces that have been chipped away from me, the bowl replied.
“Even as hard as one may search and try, there will still be empty cavities that have already been eaten by time.” she nodded.
So are memories.
“True. They say fate has been cruel to us.” She gave a hoarse laugh.
No. The bowl reminded. It has been kind enough to take away from us our parts which are of lesser value.
“And it has been generous enough to join us into new parts, making us of greater significance.” She smiled, pouring the mixture of gold resin onto the bowl’s cracks.