By Neel Anil Panicker
word count: 100 words
‘Careful. Those flowers were his life. Especially so after that prize he won last fall.’
I couldn’t agree more.
I gingerly stepped past a neat row of red, orange and lavender dahlias, the blooming petals resplendent in the morning brightness.
‘Were they not as welcoming as last time around, notwithstanding the slight breeze that blew in from the sea, or was it just me hallucinating?’
We stepped inside the house, or whatever was left of it. A nauseating smell of something like burnt rubber greeted us.
“It is his cats, I reckon. They had no chance.”
“Ronnie too”, I added.