Ghost Town
As the movers retreated down my new street with a friendly wave, I stood across from my new home, and thought about Josh. He would have thought me silly and unusually girlish for having bought such a cliché - small white picket fence, roses, the whole bit - but I knew that was a side of me that he loved. He would have loved the big garage with the attached shop - that was another reason I’d bought this place. I didn’t need a workshop myself. I’d bought it because Josh would have loved it. It didn’t look as cheery with the gathering clouds of a spring storm above, but it was - almost ridiculously cheery. Well, perhaps it was time for some cheer. I’d been mourning a long time. ...