copyright Connie Gayer
The dark box lay in the hole, half covered by dirt. Soft weeping was the only sound to be heard.
“It was so sudden, right in the middle of the nightly news,” Jane said, wiping her eyes. “He got this blank look and there was no reviving him.”
“I remember the way his face glowed with life as we sat down to watch Jeopardy after supper,” Kane said. “Those were the days.”
Jane took a deep breath. “So, now what?”
Kane shrugged. “I guess we have to go shopping and buy another one. Let’s get a high-def one this time.”
The Green-Walled Tower 