She stood admiring her handiwork. Each time she finished a piece, or found just the right artifact to honor her last conquest, a celebration followed with a bottle of Champagne. The shelf was finally full; she was bursting with excitement… and grief. Now what? This was her life’s work, nothing else will fill the void, nothing else could be as exciting, and she didn’t have the energy to start again.
Besides, the trinkets were in no way her true art. The lost souls that inspired each trinket were the prize and now she didn’t have anyone left for inspiration.
This story represents my entry into Friday Fictioneers