Departure

She had been with us for more than five years. But for last few days the grandfather was extremely angry with her.

‘Next Sunday we get rid of her,’ he thundered.

‘How would we do that?’ I had never liked her; she had always mistreated me.

‘Take her to river front and just leave her there,’

‘Can I use the car?’

‘No, she will never leave the car. Go by the public transport.’

We went by a local bus. At the river front I kept moving around aimlessly. She had become suspicious of me and stuck to me like glue.

Suddenly I jumped into a bus when it was about to leave. She tried but could not enter the bus.

Back home the grandfather was a bit disappointed when he saw me coming back, alone.

Early morning, five days later, she was found sleeping at the doorstep; she was badly bruised and tired. 

The grandfather saw her and laughed; it was a hollow laugh. He was perhaps ashamed of himself.

Three years later she vanished the day the grandfather passed away.

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A post for Flash Fictionfor Aspiring Writers on a picture prompt

Word count 181