Tuesday Fairy Tale

"Hold onto this," he said, handing me something dirty and cold.

I held onto that, and tried not to look at it so I wouldn't see how dirty my hand had become.

I watched him fix that stupid thing. It always broke at the most inopportune times. We never had the right parts to fix it, partly because everytime it broke, something different was wrong with it. And we lost the instruction manual years ago, although I don't even remember it coming with one.

He insists he knows what he's doing, though.

They always do.

Finally, he closed it up and put down his tools. He kissed me on the forehead, looking worried.

"What's wrong, dear?" I asked, my worst fears bubbling to the surface.

He looked me straight in the eye. "It's fixed, for now, but if it breaks again ..." His gaze fell downward as he wrung his hands nervously. "I don't think there'll be anything left to fix."

My green eyes turned to ice, and I tipped his head up to face me with my dirty hand. "Well, that's your department, isn't it?"

He nodded and started to get up, to turn away, like he always did when he was fighting his tears.

I got up, too, with no urge to comfort him this time. "I warned you at the beginning, dear. My heart can only take so much."

I walked away, comforted by its beating, but left to wonder how soon its last dance would end.