We’ll never be friends, but we’re too exhausted to be enemies, in your flower-strewn backyard on a sunny day.
In the slick red shoebox, a hamster’s body lies still. You only got to spend two days with Petey. I resist the urge to laugh at your grief.
Instead, I stare down at the dirt mound, at the hole in the ground.
“Deep enough?” I ask.
“Why are you being nice to me?”
I’ll take that as a yes. I drop the box and proceed to cover the hole.
If this story seems rushed, it totally is. But how can I not when it’s my prompt this week? Thanks Rochelle! The picture inspired me to think how perspective can change in unexpected ways. You never know.