~ 35 ~
The WarCassie turns the letter in her hands, begins to rip distractedly at the folded crease. At the bottom of the stairs a frog trills from within the weeds and overgrown shrubs. Ida would be disappointed at the state of the garden. Cassie couldn’t keep up with it. Soon tomorrow in fact—it will no longer be Cassie’s garden to keep.
She rests her head on the veranda rail. Behind her is the emptiness of her poppy’s cane chair, the silent presence of his crackling radio. He won’t be able to say goodbye to his home. The cancer had travelled; it wasn’t beaten as they thought, just hiding and teasing them. He will come out of hospital and move in with them, into the new house Cassie found for them to rent. Later, sometime in the future, he will go back to hospital, and they will drip m
