The Bird Feeders
As the hearse drove away I recalled that fateful morning when I had found Tom struggling for breath gripped by a severe asthma attack.
I glanced over the fence at the empty bird feeders now hanging deserted in Tom’s garden. For reasons unknown the birds had always preferred Tom's feeders to mine, something Tom took great pleasure in reminding me of whenever I popped round for morning coffee.
I then turned and watched in awe at the finches balancing precariously on my feeders. Patting my thighs in quiet contentment I suddenly realised Tom's missing inhaler was still in my pocket.
Story #39 was pulled out of Drabble #2 by the request of the writer.