The Last Thing I Gave Him
I stood in the middle of the empty room, a sharp ringing filling my ears. I hung up and opened my phone, scrolling through Serena's account. She kept everything public, like someone who wanted to be seen.
I scrolled down a few posts. Her dog was wearing a tiny outfit I recognized. Soft cotton, hand-washed and ironed flat, now chewed shapeless, stained with saliva, hanging loose on the small animal. On the carpet behind it, torn into bright, unrecognizable pieces, were the toys.