Even after fourteen years she still set two places at the table. The ritual brought her comfort – the mats with the holly borders, the Christmas candles, the crackers – still plenty left from last year.

“Not yet Stanley,” she said chiding the old tabby and shooing him to the floor.

She poured two sherries, placed them on the table and sat down, her bones creaking. With some effort, the cat jumped up to the empty place opposite, sniffed at the glass and backed away, nose twitching.

“It used to be your favourite,” she said. “Cheers Stan,” she lifted her glass and chinked it against the other.

***

This piece of writing was inspired by the picture prompt provided by Scott Vannatter for the Friday Fictioneers writing group run by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. We all attempt to write 100 words (or so); this week I’m slightly over.

I’d love to receive comments and constructive criticism. Click here to read other people’s stories inspired by this picture or to join in.