It was some days after the burial of the shattered dog at the beach.
My thoughts had moved on from the distraught man and his broken pet.
But it seemed his thoughts were still revolving around me.
The doorbell rang. I got up to attend to it.
A postman. A rarity around these parts, but still – a postman.
‘Package for you’ he said, brusquely, indicating a box at his feet.
Thanking him, I dragged the heavy parcel into the lounge.
Tears formed in my eyes. My own glass dog, with a thank you note from the man I’d helped.