'You'll have to run behind, Jon. Hahaha!'
'Up here by me, Jon. Good job Delia's a big, strong gal!'
'I'm with ye, Will. Gee up, Delia!'
Winifred Winn sat watching the sunlight's lovely play through the fine haze of dust they had left as the gig sped
from the village square. Dreams she had never dared to dream had come true. Yet in the midst of all her happiness she
felt a tinge of sadness, picturing the towheaded lad and his dog a short while ago, crossing the square. He was wearing
the new outfit she had bought for him, the black Labrador trotted at his side faithfully. They halted halfway across the
square. He flicked the blond hair from his eyes and stood there. Those blue eyes had never seemed so bright. Ned
barked once, Ben raised his arm, shouting as he waved.
'Miz Winn!'
She half rose from her chair, the name forming on her lips.
'Ben...'
Then the dust settled and an old lady was left gazing at an empty village square.
