His children and grandchildren had managed a birthday visit before the borders closed, shedding tears as his gnarled fingers clawed at the home’s window in a frantic attempt to wave at his loved ones locked outside.
“Will she send me a card?” His timorous voice had asked.
A cream card, embossed with a gold 100 stood on the coffin; written inside
‘To Mr. Fred Ramsgate, on the occasion of…signed Elizabeth R.'