The Jigsaw Puzzle

Learning to rebuild when all seems lost

I had been working on the puzzle for years. but I seemed to be no closer to finishing it.

In truth, I had lost track of what on earth the picture was supposed to look like. I would spend an hour on it here, an hour there. Other times, I wouldn't touch it for weeks or months at a time.

This time, I had been working on it for three weeks straight. I had been determined to finish it, to see it through no matter what. But I was getting to the end of my tether.

I picked up another vague shape and tried to place it in. It wouldn't go, no matter how much I forced it. But it had to fit here! I had tried it everywhere else.

In a fit of rage, I let out a bestial roar and brought my fist crashing down onto the table, smashing the pieces in every direction. Immediately regretting what I had done, I slumped back into the chair, my face falling into my hands, the tears I had held back so long falling uncontrollably, my shoulders shaking with the weight of the sobs that escaped me at last.

***********************************************************

It was many years until I came back to the puzzle.

I came across it by accident. I had been clearing out the loft when my leg brushed against a box. The picture on the front had become faded and illegible with age but I recognised my old puzzle.

I brought it downstairs and placed it on the table. I looked at it for a long time before making the decision to start again.

But this time I was determined to learn from my mistakes. I would not tackle this enigma haphazardly. I built logically, starting from the bottom of the puzzle, building a strong base. Only with the foundation built did I move on, building in segments, grouping similar pieces together, completing a section before moving on to another. My hands were moving rapidly now, barely needing to stop for my eyes to register the piece, my body working in perfect unison, one piece after another, after another.

But then I stopped. I looked down and saw that I only had one piece left. But the puzzle was nowhere near finished. I stood up, checking to see if there were any pieces I had missed. Nothing. I turned back around and looked again at the puzzle.

And then I smiled.

I placed the last piece into the jigsaw of my life

At last I understood.

The puzzle was not complete. But it was never meant to be.

Not yet.

Reviews

[Archia]

Nice story, I liked how the puzzle which they had tried so hard to do ended up being a metaphor for their life. It had such a good ending.

[fwvalidus]

I apologize for reiterating this, but this truly was very simple but very strong. You've made a nice flash fiction piece out of a powerful metaphor

[Arthur Dumile]

Great writing. Simple but powerful

[Boranus]

the pieces of the puzzle don't fit, change the picture like Picasso.

[Marie]

I like the way this moves along--first about a jog-saw puzzle, then about life. Fine writing.