Another 100 words in the story ‘Remains‘.
The toys came up first, decay well set in but still recognizable as bear and doll. A young child’s toys, not a baby’s. Why did we think it was a grave and not just a rubbish dump? What made us keep on digging until we found the rest, when both of us were sick and the tears blurred the rising pile of sods? Why did we need to know? Because we tasted December in the June air, heard again the cackling of the wind when we discovered our child’s empty bed, and because we would never forget Uncle Fred Bear and Baby Doll.