This is fiction:Johnson was a fat man, but still somehow handsome. It was hard for me to imagine him rotting away down there when he used to be so substantial. But there it is - the layer of grass resting over the still settling dirt, its brown seams proclaiming that yes, this one was fresh.
"I didn't really know you," I said out loud, surprising myself.
Johnson was a good boss. He always seemed so cheerful. At least once a day, he'd clap me on the shoulder and tell me what a swell assistant he thought I was. But in the note he'd left when he hung himself, he'd instructed that there should be no funeral, and that I was to make all the burial arrangements, and inherit all his things.
He'd only hired me a month ago.
"Why me?" I'd asked, but no answer would ever be forthcoming, or so I thought. I turned the Rolex in my hands. It didn't seem right that I should have it. He'd always worn the thing, and it would never suit my slender woman's wrist. There was no man in my life to take it. I could sell it, but I didn't need the money anymore.
My fingers rubbed the inscription under the watch face. "For Danny, with all my love," it said. No mention of who it was from.
I tossed the watch onto the grave and walked back towards the cemetery gate. I turned around for one last look and saw the silver glinting. Only then did I notice the magpies cawing in the poplars that swayed nearby.
