Grave Situation

by Alex MacLean

  “Sounds good.”

  Allan turned for the door to leave. Behind him he heard Thorne rise from his chair.

  “I’ll give you three weeks,” he said. “If you need more time just let me know.”

  “Thank you.” Allan nodded once, and then left.

  He went to his office, closed the door, and sat at his desk. Resting his forehead on clasped hands, he shut his eyes. Outside, the rain was pouring now, big fat drops that pounded the windowpane.

  When Allan opened his eyes again, he stared at the picture of Brian smiling at him from the edge of the desk.

  So much I let slip away in my life, he thought sadly.

  He picked up the phone and called Air Canada.

  “Yes,” he told the agent who answered. “I’d like to book a flight to Toronto.”

  And for the first time in a long time, he felt himself smile.