She took a hesitant glance at the property next to hers and noticed the sign of things to come—lot markers. Wooden posts, each with florescent-orange painted tips stuck up through the earth like daggers in the soil, outlining the shape of her heartbreak. Were these the ones that had disappeared? Tasha hurried to the front door where she found a note taped to the sidelight window. She frowned and carefully removed it before heading inside. Wolfy whined from the back deck. She opened the door and he bounded in, his mouth open and tongue hanging out. His bright eyes told her he wanted to play, but all she wanted to do was collapse on the couch. And so she did. She rested her tired legs on her scratched-up coffee table, patted Wolfy’s head, and read the note she’d found on her way inside: Hello! Wolfy looked so forlorn this afternoon that we let him out of the deck to romp around awhile. Hope you don’t mind. Marc p.s. The crew and I left to pick up fixins for dinner. See you soon.
