Another monochrome day. She replaces it with flamboyant forests, endless lapis skies. He’s waiting, joyous. They run through dazzling colours, carefree, fingers entwined. Sunlight warms their faces, ripe berries bursting across laughing tongues.

A granddaughter drops by, finds her in his favourite chair. Still smiling, faded photographs tumbled like leaves.

Deborah writes at an old desk surrounded by five hundred pet bugs.