“Are you sure about this, Beau?”
“Yes.”
“Once you sign, the change is immediate, and there is no going back.”
“I understand completely.”
He signs his name, and in a burst of light, there is nothing on the table but a watch and gold ring.
A dog sat in the chair.
“Beau, is that you?”
Like Mercury Colliding: Twittering Tales #145
The Reluctant Poet 