The Missing Solitaire

Disclaimer:

The author does not claim the below to be a true story. Nor does she claim that it’s only a work of fiction. She also does not claim that she knows the characters in this story. The reader is free to imagine evaluate and interpret the fictional merits of the story.

Part I

It was 2015. Probably the toughest time of our Protagonist, Pam’s life. It felt as if the ground was slipping from under her feet. She had always been fitness conscious. She continued to attend her Zumba classes without fail. It was one of the few things that kept her afloat when the world around her appeared to be disintegrating. A good friend told her to pick up as many activities as she possibly could. She was told that the best way to deal with such a situation was to take up as many physical-mental-social activities as she possibly could. That would drain out all her energy and leave her with no time to entertain disturbing thoughts that often incapacitated her.

The one hour session started at 8:30 am in the morning. She went to the locker room, changed to her fitness gears and occupied her spot five minutes before time. The session always started dot on time. Thirty minutes into the workout and her body was burning calories. She felt great as she gave herself that extra push. The average age of her batch was half her own age. She always had to work harder to match up to her teammates.

The fifth routine called for a step where she was to put her hands together up in the air, stay in that posture for a few seconds and then look up. As she did so she found herself looking at her left middle finger. A solitaire adorned that finger for the past nine years. Blood drained out of her face as she saw the four prongs sticking in the air like an empty basket void of the diamond they used to hold securely. She froze. She realised she had lost her most prized possession.

She was not a big fan of jewellery. But when it came to rings it was a different story. She loved diamonds. She loved her rings. A point of reference to help dear readers comprehend how flabbergasted one would be in her place on that fateful morning. She bought that solitaire in 2007. Around the same time, she had also bought a 950 sq ft apartment in Steel city. The apartment had costed her a little less than her ring. And the ring was not insured.

As she stood still in that posture the sound of her thumping heart reached her ears suppressing the sound coming from the speakers and the sound of thirty feet jumping on the wooden floor in rhythm. She was mummified for few seconds. The fifteen odd dedicated dancers and the instructor pressed on with the drill. They paid no heed to their deadwood team mate.