“Lift the shutter, let me see one last time,”grandfather lifted his head with difficulty to have a final glimpse of the cottage.
For three decades, this wilderness had been his home. He had built the cottage here by his own hand, welcomed so many mornings and bid farewell to days.
Today, the man is off to city for treatment.
“I am not coming back, am I?” Everyone knew the answer. No one said anything.
The coyote, whom grandfather fed daily, simply raised its head and released an anguished howl at the sea plane that gathered speed for takeoff.
Word Count: 100
This is an effort to write aflash fiction effort with the Friday fictioneers, 29thAug, 2018, by host Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.
Picture promt credit goes to Dawn M. Miller.