The Display

As he laid it on the display table in his shop front, the man carefully propped it up for the best viewable angle from the front window. He knew it would be an incredible attraction, and desired to see all the faces who peered in to see it; the stars and celebrities; the kings and queens; the wise folk who travelled far to witness it. He stored these thoughts deep down as he completed the arrangement and switched on the lights around to illuminate it.

It was beautiful, and throbbed just slightly as it sat basking in the sun, or appearing to drink in the rain which fell some days outside the window. The man was right, and there was nearly always a crowd outside seeking a look at his beautiful display. And display he did - proudly, and for the world to see. When affected, it was clear, and though perhaps, for some, many would be a private moment, the man still kept it in the window for viewing, even when it shook with grief, or heaved with burden.

Many years it remained on display, the children passing in awe, the adult folk looking on in interest.

In time, however, it became the norm. He would even allow many select people to handle it, and turn it over in their hands to view pieces he did not show to the general public. Everyone who was allowed to view it was impressed, but many were rough with it and often damaged it in ways which were irreparable.

As he had hoped, kings and queens, and people from all over the Earth journeyed to experience it and, indeed, he received much pleasure observing each person enjoying their experiences with it. But with the passing of time, it became more and more apparent that the exit of such important ones to his desire caused the most feeling of loss, and often times he would retract it from view and desire no one to visit or see, but he faithfully set it back in view each time.

When the man was old, though it became shriveled and unattractive, he did not retract it. It was bruised and broken, and a very sad sight indeed. Scars from those who mishandled it, missing pieces from those who stole portions, and wounds from those who viciously stabbed and tore at it were easily visible to all. Discoloration from too much exposure and even pieces missing which had been given away with intention drew comments and questions from many who passed by.

When the man died, it curled up and ceased to throb, as it also lay dead on the table on which it had spent so many hours and years experiencing the life in which it was set. And so the end came.

In later years, the crowds would look back at the years of Henry's shop display experience and wonder if it was wise or healthy, and feel a melancholy sadness sweep over them as they realized that they had viewed Henry's very heart for 83 years, and that it had died publicly, open to viewing, and entirely alone.