Work Text:
Linda had the same routine every morning: put on her robe, pour herself a cup of coffee, and walk into her back yard. It was her yard, and had been for over five years now.
She traced the same path, touching each tree. The one in the corner was her favorite. She almost felt like she had conversations with it. With him.
Then one morning, he told her he would be gone. Soon.
“Is there anything I can do?” she asked.
“No,” he replied solemnly. “It’s going to happen.”
“You’re right, I suppose. The yard will be different,” she sighed.