“Violet!” I called, holding out her favourite snack.
Strange; no head poking out, no answer. She normally comes running out.
So I lifted up her house.
There she was, stiff and lifeless.
I buried her under a violet bush in the garden. I hope she decays to grow it well.
Christine Hyde used to be a tax adviser. Now she’s an aspiring writer and hopes to start a course in Psychology in September.