A harsh white blanket spread across the sky and every grassy blade.
Penny’s fingers numbed sticking posters to lampposts.
Missing Cat. Freddy.
Later, her husband, Rob, said, ‘I never wanted that cat,’ and dumped Freddy’s dish in the bin. Penny fished it out.
A dead rat was on the doormat in the morning. Penny whispered, ‘Freddy?’ and hid a saucer of milk behind her bike. Rob turned the engine of his car, drove off in a snowstorm. Penny buckled in the silence. No goodbye, kiss or smile.
Three days later, Rob still wasn’t home. Penny didn’t put up any posters.