“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.