Flash Fiction
by Sylvia Jones
Megan had a hollow sensation in the pit of her stomach. Her loyal, endearing husband of 56 years of marriage had been dead for 12 years. Killed in a road accident.
After battling for a decade alone it seemed that Bob had been sent as a guardian angel to help in her loneliness. They had met at the entrance of the local animal sanctuary two years ago. Their eyes met briefly. His dark brown velvety eyes looked doleful and sad. She spoke briefly to him before stepping outside. She had accompanied Agnes, who was recently widowed, to the animal sanctuary. Agnes had seen a cat she much admired. A home visit was necessary before Agnes was allowed to take the animal of her choice home.
Today Megan sat dozing in her tiny two-up-two-down cottage. She had last seen Bob as he walked down the garden path of her home a month ago. What had stopped him returning to her?
The door bell brought her out of her reverie. Dozily she removed the security door chain. A man was standing there. Megan scarcely saw him. What she did see was the scruffy bundle of brown and black hair as Bob, her beloved Yorkshire cross terrier, jumped into her arms and started licking her.
