“As I was saying,” PC Adams cleared his throat, “without the murder weapon, the case can’t progress.”
Peter lowered his head miserably. His wife’s killer was still free. Poor, poor Alison. To die that way was …was… He sobbed. Adams consoled him as best he could.
Eventually, the policeman was ready to leave, promising updates should any come to light.
Now alone, Peter’s mood lifted as he watered his precious plant.
Of course, who was to know that the crystal bowl in which they lay had only recently been glued together.
He hummed softly as he went about his chores.

©Vivian Zems

Friday Fiction with Rochelle

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields