A fist-sized red onion balanced on top of the pyramid in the onion bin like it had been left there for her. In its presence, everything else in the world blurred from insignificance and became a concept. The heart pulsing steadily before her was the only real thing, and for the first time in her life, she stopped thinking and knew what to do. Bowing her head slightly, her fingers encircled it. It was meaty, huge and heavy. Firm under the thin layer of skin. She raised it to her eye. From the bottom she spun it on its axis. As it twirled, all her past loves were thrown off like an out of control merry-go-round. Their histories were strewn about the smudged grocery store floor, leaving only the red onion beating like the fist in her chest. All those years looking for love and finding assholes. They told her it would happen when she least expected it. And then the onion appeared. With three fingers, she held it up to the florescent lighting like an offering, and thrust it past her ribcage and into the cavity that used to be her ravaged heart. Here, she could start fresh.
