My contribution to the deadlinesforwriters short story challenge January 2025. The prompt was „Found“ and the required word count was 1200. Cover photo by Pierre Bamin on Unsplash.
Puzzle
Jen had always loved jigsaw puzzles. They gave her brain a happy tingling, even though she hadn’t done any in ages. This new one had come with a card.
“Happy birthday, Sis, my house is always open for you! Love, Cass”
She knew she’d have to start preparing lunch soon, and the laundry basket kept giving her reproachful looks. But she just had to sneak the box open. The image was custom-made and based on a photograph of Cass and herself, their matching smiles so young and unshakeable. Jen remembered that particular summer Sunday afternoon at the beach.
She rummaged through the pieces, hunting for the corners. With a guilty glance at the laundry, she placed them on the living room table. Soon, she had assembled the top border, all blue sky with the odd seagull wing poking up.
“Jennifer! When’s lunch? I’m starving!”
Robert’s voice shook her focus away from the puzzle. She could hear his steps coming downstairs.
“I was just going to start, sorry! Do you think I can leave this on the table for the time being?”
Robert frowned.
“Your sister and her ideas again! Good thing we agreed to not have her come around as often. By the way, I can’t find any clean socks, don’t you think you should do the laundry soon?”
Jen got up from the couch.
“Sorry, I’ll go sort lunch. Maybe you could peel some potatoes?”
“Hm.”
They had been married for almost ten years now. Jen admired Robert’s focus on his work. Even on Sundays, he spent hours in his study doing calculations and writing articles. Initially, she had enrolled at university to study architecture. But as it turned out, they couldn’t afford to both attend uni, and he had been so gifted. They had agreed that Jen would work to earn their living.
While she was peeling the potatoes, she thought about how they had met. It had been soon after the day pictured in her puzzle. She had been instantly smitten with his smile and the way he had had his life all planned out. Cass hadn’t been able to see the attraction, even after the wedding. What Jen thought was strength of character, Cassie called narrow-mindedness. It was a pity that she never saw how brilliant Robert was at his job, how funny.
Ugh. Jen hated getting starchy potato juice all over her hands. She was glad when the last of them splashed into the salt water. They would take twenty minutes, as would the roasted vegetables. She decided to return to her puzzle for now. The laundry could wait.
The box stood on the other end of the table now. Maybe she was getting old? Shaking her head, she picked some more border pieces. There was grass on the bottom of the image, sand and pebbles to the sides. Jen felt her surroundings staring to fade away, so she set the alarm on her smartphone so she wouldn’t forget the potatoes.
Shortly after, the border was complete. It framed the empty rectangle in the middle, ready to accept more connections, to turn the bits and pieces into colourful memories. The two of them had been wearing almost identical summer dresses that day. Cassie’s had been pink and Jen’s purple. These days, most of her clothes were green or blue for some reason. Back then, purple had been her favourite colour. People changed, didn’t they?
With the outside structure done, she scooped out another handful randomly. One of the pieces caught her eye: It showed two hands clasped together. Or at least parts of them. Cass obviously had remembered Jen’s preference for more intricate puzzles.
She went digging in the box for more bits showing her and her sisters’ hands, but couldn’t find any before the alarm buzzed.
“Jennifer? Are you done with the food?”
She jumped to her feet, wondering not for the first time what this new article was about. Sometimes Robert talked to her about his research, and it sounded fascinating. Still, he might take a break every other Sunday or so. Her job was stressful too, and still she found the time to care for their home.
During their meal, Robert and Jennifer talked about Cassandra and how she had been the one to break off contact. Strange, considering the fact that she had remembered Jennifer’s birthday and even sent a gift. But apparently her dislike for Robert was so strong that it was for the best to stay apart.
Afterwards, Jen rushed back into the living room. She was determined to find the missing hand pieces first and start working from there. Eventually, contrary to her usual custom, she even upended the entire box. No luck. She shrugged and swept the loose pieces up into a neat pile. It was probably a question of too many tiny bits, and she would find their hands sooner or later. Also, she was obviously out of practice.
Gradually, the image grew in front of her. Seagull bodies connected to white wings, children splashed in the waves and on there was even that scoop of ice cream on the ground the little boy had been crying about. The more clearly Jen relived her memories, the more the cardboard pile melted away. Soon there were only five pieces left, only the puzzle was missing twenty.
Jen shook the box. Nothing.
She added the last pieces to find chunks of Cassie missing. Jen only recognised the faint sound in her ears as her heartbeat when it grew loud enough.
“Robert?”
On her way to his study, she saw a flash of colour on the ground next to the shoe cupboard. Nine more pieces, none of them showing Cassie’s face. She picked them up, took the stairs, knocked at his door and waited for him to open it.
“What is it?”
“Do you have any idea how these could have ended up at the front door?”
“What do I have to do with anything? You were the one spreading chaos all over the living room, Jennifer.”
“It’s just, … I haven’t been close to that part of the hallway.”
The drumming increased.
“Maybe if you did the laundry, that would help you clear your head enough to remember where you put your things. I really have to get back to my calculations now.”
The door snapped shut. She took a breath.
Jen returned to the puzzle and added the pieces from the hallway. There was a hole where her sister’s face should have been. Her fingers traced the image and when they got caught in the gap, a hungry pain spread beneath her lower ribs.
Jen wiped her eyes and decided to bake herself a cake after all.
With the tin in the oven, she threw empty bags into the rubbish. It was close to overflowing, so she pulled up the bag and took it outside.
And there they were, in the dustbin: Six skin coloured puzzle pieces, the familiar grin, the boisterous curls.
Jen rescued them from the grime and carried them inside. With the puzzle nearly finished, they found their way home as if by themselves until with a dry crunch the last piece clicked into place.
Like my contribution to the story challenge January 2025? You can find more of my stories here!
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