Poor Bobby

Rushing up the path, my nan, Iris, was waiting. 

”Here’s the keys honey, have to rush as the girls are waiting for me. See you Tuesday and thank you for house-sitting for me.”

In a whirl, she was gone. Opening the patio doors, glorious weather, sunbathing for me. Five days of rest and relaxation on my own. Bliss. Wandering back inside after a few hours, my attention was caught by the birdcage rocking as a cat darted past. With my heart in my mouth, I looked into the cage. Nothing. The door wide open, no Bobby the budgie. Knowing how much the bird meant to her since my granddad died, tears welled up and I sank onto the sofa crying.

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