Writer Unblocked

A Broken Hearted Story

The lone lady walked the crisps aisle in the convenience store, fingering the packs with frail fingers. Slowly, she chose a six pack, wrinkled hands sparkling with heart shaped jewels. A smile lit up an ancient face, a memory of a younger yesterday behind eyes that had seen too much. The old lady walked towards the checkout till, still smiling. For a love of good crisps survives time, a comfort to an aching heart. And what stories this heart could tell.

**

Brian’s heart furiously pumped blood through his body. He had just finished an early morning run. Pouring himself a water, he eyed the bag of Walkers ready salted crisps on his worktop. That would be a treat for later.

A little indulgence, a tonic that crunched to a place beyond his heartbreak, a happier world where crisps were free for all. A world where his wife of many years Stephanie, had not left him for his best friend.

Brian’s heart beat faster as he contemplated all he had lost. At least he still had his cars, they would not desert him. His second true love, a car mechanic by day, by night he worked on his hobby cars, mending the beating heart of their battered bodies.

Then his eyes returned to the bag of Walkers crisps, and he smiled. Slowly, he opened the pack. His smile faded as he regarded the crisp in his hand.

It looked exactly like half a heart, with a jagged cut on its straight side. It was a broken heart.

Tears pricked Brian’s eyes. Slowly, he placed the heart shaped crisp on his windowsill. He could not eat it. So the crisp lay there as the sun rose higher and then as night descended, kissing it with silver moonlight. It slept in silence, forgotten.

**

Melissa folded her knitting, its progress a thorn in her heart. She lacked the will to continue. Nothing enticed her excitement anymore. It felt as if life had ended when Michael left her, for none other than her hairdresser Anne. Life was cruel and as hard as cement.

She threw the knitting across the room, as the tears began to flow, a waterfall of regret. George Michael’s “Careless Whisper” played softly in the background, a sonnet of pain.

Absentmindedly, Melissa opened a pack of her favourite Walkers cheese and onion flavour crisps. A powerful pick me up, a remedy for rusted over romance.

Then she saw it, and her heart stopped for a moment. A perfect half heart shaped crisp, with a jagged edge where its other half should be. A broken hearted crisp.

Melissa laughed with little humour. She would keep this crisp. It summed up her mood perfectly, melancholy in potato art.

That evening, her friend Tina came over. “Look at this broken hearted crisp!” Melissa cried, delight tinged with distress in her eyes.

Tina’s eyes twinkled. “Let’s do a social media campaign to find the owner of the other half!”

“What?” exclaimed Melissa. “If there is another half, someone has eaten it by now. I’m the only idiot who would cherish a crisp and keep it!”

“But let’s try!” insisted Tina. “A social media campaign can’t do your florist shop any harm, in fact any promotion is good!”

So it came to pass that #brokenheartmate was born. To Melissa’s amazement, the hashtag began trending throughout the UK. And so the search for the second broken heart shaped crisp began.

**

Brian’s cleaner Wendy had almost finished her shift. His house was one of the best on her list, always tidy and no nasty surprises. She entered the kitchen, and stopped short in surprise.

A crisp shaped like half a broken heart lay on the windowsill.

Quickly, Wendy retrieved her phone and searched for the hashtag brokenheartmate. Before she knew what she was doing, she had uploaded a photo of the crisp. It was time for social media sundown.

**

Melissa could not believe her eyes. A heartbroken crisp to match her own.

Melissa and Brian’s friends persuaded them to meet. Brian drove from Glasgow to London, asking himself all the way what on earth he was doing.

They met in a coffee shop, surprised to like each other straight away, but laughing together that love at first sight had not occurred. However, their two crisps fitted together perfectly. Fate fingered their hearts as their brains said no.

They kept in touch and then met a few more times. Eventually, their flimsy fondness for one another turned in to enduring love. They had found their brokenheartmate.

**

One year later, their wedding day dawned to sunshine and joyful birdsong.

Melissa wore a white dress with a heart embroidered on its chest. Brian wore a kilt with a heart shaped sporran.

Before their altar lay a heart made of 20 red Walkers crisp packs, inlaid with blue cheese and onion packs, with a further inlay of red rosebuds, and their two original broken hearted crisps proudly in the middle.

Then the short service had concluded, and two broken hearts became one.

Later that evening, guest Shona sat alone at the bar eating a bag of salt and vinegar crisps. To her shock then simmering satisfaction, she found a half heart crisp, with jagged edges on its straight side. Recently single, Shona laughed. Did she too have a brokenhearted mate somewhere?

Nigel also found a brokenhearted crisp. He pocketed it, smiling. Later, dancing with Shona, little did either know about each other’s crisp shaped secret. However, they certainly knew that they liked each other very much.

Brian and Melissa departed later that night, in an open topped car overflowing with crisps. “Wherever they are going, they will not be hungry,” mused Shona.

Every guest’s goodie bag contained a bag of crisps, in addition to a heart shaped cookie. It looked like the guests would not go hungry, either.

**

The old lady slowly ate a bag of crisps, contemplating her long life. Her one true love had died two years previously, however they had shared decades of contentment. She chuckled, as she reflected on their honeymoon, days of unrivalled happiness asleep in her heart never to be woken up, a sweet slumber of forever.

She withdrew her hand carefully from the pack, looking at the crisp in her palm. It was an old habit.

Then the tears came. She was holding a half heart, jagged on the straight edge. Did it portend a better future, or just a piece of her past that would not die? Miracles unspoken murmured deep in her heart. The old lady smiled, wiping away her tears. Slowly her eyes closed as the honeymoon in her heart flew free.