Amabie’s Pond

Amabie’s Pond Gary Buller It had been a day of sandcastles, donkey rides and candy floss. A day to mend broken hearts. We took the scenic route, following the sat-nav down a coastal road to my parent’s house. Molly was asleep in the back and our springer spaniel, Scout, snored from his crate. The passenger seat, once occupied, was empty. Looking in the rear-view mirror, it surprised me how much Molly resembled her father. Those rounded cheeks, long eyelashes and chestnut hair. She had my lips though, thank goodness, now…