Amor Fati: Episode 9 - Broken Glass

by Elyse Harrison
Previous episodes

Clara awoke with a gasp.

The bench. The lawn. The Science building. Her watch. Two o'clock. Again.

A laugh escaped her. Part disbelief, part hysteria. ‘Let's try this again.’

This time she set off at once. She crossed the lawn before James had travelled more than a few metres from the building. Unlike before, he saw her approaching.

His face lit up immediately. As though he'd been waiting for her. As though he'd never broken her heart.

By the time she reached him, he was smiling. Clara hated how familiar it felt.

Predictably, James leaned forward.

Equally predictably, Clara planted her palm firmly against his mouth.

His eyes widened.

‘James, this can't happen again,’ she said.

He blinked. ‘What can't?’

Clara didn't answer.

Instead, she turned and began walking away. She made it three steps. Then James caught her hand.

The sudden tug brought her to an abrupt halt. At the same moment, something slipped from Clara's satchel.

The hourglass. It struck the path and shattered. Glass exploded across the concrete.

‘No!’ Clara dropped to her knees.

James immediately did the same.

Tiny shards glittered between them. Sand spilled across the footpath. The last of her chances disappearing grain by grain.

‘No, no, no!’

James carefully gathered several larger pieces. ‘I'm sorry.’

Clara stared at the wreckage. ‘It's broken,’ she said quietly.

‘Clara–’

‘It can't be fixed.’

The words hung between them.

James looked up. His gaze locked onto hers. For a long moment neither spoke. Then he leaned closer.

Before he even touched her, Clara could tell this kiss would be different. More certain. More desperate. As though he were trying to hold onto something already slipping away.

For one terrifying moment Clara wanted to kiss him back. She wanted to forget the photograph, the future, and the last thirteen years she had lost to heartbreak.

Instead, she turned her head. The kiss brushed her cheek.

‘I need to go.’ She stood.

James rose with her. ‘Clara–’

But what was there left to say?

The hourglass was broken. The future was uncertain. And with no way to change what came next, Clara turned and walked away without looking back.

She left James standing amongst shattered glass and scattered sand.

At home, sunlight streamed through the living room windows, casting warm gold across the carpet. Under different circumstances, Clara might have welcomed it. Today, it felt cruel. The brightness seemed at odds with the heaviness weighing on her chest. She hadn’t managed to change anything, yet her world felt as though it had shifted beneath her feet.

The hourglass was broken. And with it any chance to rewrite her future.

Clara crossed the room and pulled the curtains shut. The darkness that settled over the house brought a small measure of relief. She sank onto the couch and curled onto her side, exhausted. Her mind replayed the day in relentless fragments. The impossible reliving of the past. The repeated collisions, kisses, and the vulnerable look in James’s eyes. But most of all, the broken hourglass and the terrible realisation that whatever happened next was now beyond her control.

She closed her eyes. Sleep came almost immediately. It felt as though only seconds had passed when a sharp knock echoed through the house.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Clara's eyes flew open.

For a moment, she was no longer lying on the couch in her living room, but sixteen years old again, standing barefoot in the hallway as that police officer lingered on the front porch. She could still remember the way her mother's face had drained of colour at the news. The way her hands had begun to tremble and the way a single knock had divided her life into a before and an after.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The sound pulled Clara back to the present. Her chest tightened. Irrationally, she found herself dreading whatever waited on the other side of the door. As if nothing good had ever followed a knock like that. Slowly, she pushed herself upright from the couch. The room remained dim behind the drawn curtains.

Another knock sounded. Knock. Knock. Knock.

Clara crossed the room on unsteady legs and rested her hand on the doorknob. For a brief moment, she hesitated. Then she opened the door.

Her breath caught.

James stood on the porch.

His hair was slightly windswept, and there was an uncertainty in his posture she wasn't accustomed to seeing. For a moment neither of them spoke.

Then James shifted his weight and offered a tentative smile. ‘Can we talk?’ he asked.

About the Author: Elyse Harrison

Elyse Harrison is an environmental professional and writer based in Geelong. Her writing explores the connections between people, animals, history and the natural world, often weaving together themes of hope, grief, belonging, love, and environmental stewardship. Drawing inspiration from nature, philosophy, and the enduring relationships between humans and animals, she writes poetry and fiction that seeks to find meaning in the fleeting moments that shape our lives.

https://www.facebook.com/ElyseHarrisonWriter/