Gordon unknotted his tie, and folded it neatly in the drawer.
Each anniversary of her death, Gordon tidied Betty’s grave, chatting quietly to her. He remembered telling Betty, on one of his visits, about Tessa. He hoped she wouldn’t mind. He felt it was time to move on.
It had been two years since Tessa had come into his life, visiting so many places together, injecting a joie de vivre he thought he’d lost.
Tessa came in from the other room. Yes, there had been enough grieving. She looked into his eyes, understanding, and put her paw on his arm.
100 word, excluding title © Robert J Curtis February 2009
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