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Kathryn is a writer currently pursuing a masters in Computational and Data Journalism at Cardiff university. This is her first piece of published flash fiction.
When he bought it from Jeremy's Jewelers it cost him 10,000 credits but now it was worth nothing. It was one of a kind originally, but now copy after copy came churning out from the CopyCat making it as a penny was to a millionaire. The diamond still glistened, the silver still shined, and it still fit my finger perfectly. Every time I threw it into the river that ran behind my house; CopyCat would make me a new one. 'Don't worry,' it would say. 'Nothing is lost, everything can be found,' and out from its dispenser would emerge a brand-new diamond ring.
When he first left me, it was the photos that I destroyed. Ripping his face into shreds I leaned against the wall and sobbed. But before I could even get onto the next photo, CopyCat sounded from the next room, 'Don't worry. Nothing is lost, everything can be found.' Without moving from my spot, I shredded the next; CopyCat tried to comfort me: 'Don't worry. Nothing is lost, everything can be found.' Ripping the next, 'Don't worry. Nothing is lost, everything can be found.' Slicing the next, 'Don't worry. Nothing is lost, everything can be found.' Crushing the next, 'Don't worry. Nothing is lost, everything can be found.'
I gave up on the photos, and the ring came next. I would throw it as far as I could, watch it sink down to the bed of the river, and I would believe, just for a moment, that it was gone forever. Though, of course, when I returned to the house CopyCat proudly sat with a diamond ring in its dispenser.
When he came to pick up his things, he was wearing the exact outfit he wore the day he left me; a blue shirt, black trousers, and those shoes that I always hated. Before he went to leave me for the very last time, I asked him if he would walk down to the river with me just for old times' sake. He stood at the edge of the river, I pushed him in, he banged his head, he floated away. Just as I had expected, CopyCat announced from the house behind me 'Don't worry. Nothing is lost, everything can be found.' and the dispenser worked its magic; a blue shirt, black trousers, and that pair of shoes that I always hated.
The End
This story was first published on Monday, January 4th, 2021
Author Comments
Kathryn is a writer currently pursuing a masters in Computational and Data Journalism at Cardiff university. This is her first piece of published flash fiction.
- Kathryn Smith
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