She held the clear glass vase

She held the clear glass vase in the palm of her hand.
She loved the weight of it, the smooth curves and straight lines.
She wanted it. She wanted to put it on a window ledge and watch the light reflect through it.
But she was afraid, and selfish, and she wouldn't let go.
She had to have it in her hand to control it.
So she wrapped her poisonous, venomous, calloused fingers around the neck of the delicate jar
and squeezed.
She held it so tightly, so controllingly.
It cracked. It shattered.
Tighter still she squeezed the shards in to her now broken flesh.
Sure she could resurrect it if she just held tight enough.
Living water, Life Blood dripping through her clenched fist.
Big red peonies on white vinyl flooring.