Light meandered its way into the squinting eyes of Gordon, tickling his glassy spheres with ultraviolet pulsations. Disheveled and sighing wearily of the new day, he rolled off his bed with a loud thump.. and a shriek. What was once a beloved bedside companion to Gordon had become a furry crepe to accommodate only the lowliest of Dutch breakfasts.

Gordon, however, decided to skip breakfast that morning, and opted for a handful of roasted almonds instead, en lieu to the pet cemetery, where Gerbella was to be carried into the next life of loyal domestication.

As if fate had dealed him a royal flush in the karmic card game of life, a queen of spades appeared before his still aching eyes, digging his crepe's sanctuary into the leaf-sodden ground.

"I know a taxidermist."

Her labour provoked a single bead of sweat to land on the unpolished toe of Gordon's grandfather's loafer, which he so preciously collected and frequently attired.

"That's okay. You're sweating.. take my handkerchief"

Violet lavender swirls in silk; he handed her his only one from the breast pocket of his flannel jam-jams.

"Thanks.. Um.." she offered a stained hand in greeting, "I'm Hannah."

Slightly reluctant yet strangely willing, all the same, he received her muddy salutation.

"Gordon. You can call me Gord. Or Gordo."

"Which do you prefer?" inquired Hannah.

"It's not my preference. It's yours. Choose whichever you feel suits fit."

There was an awkward pause so devoid of activity the cemetery seemed to be teeming with life. Gordon pondered the idea of purchasing a new suit.

"Your name.. is that like a palindrome or something?" he shuffled his feet.

"What's a palindrome?"

"H. A. N. N. A. H. it reads both ways.. I mean backwards."

Another pause dissolved into the morning condensation.

Hannah dropped Gerbella into her hole.

Gordon gestured a solemn goodbye in some form of invented sign language.

"Would you like a cup of tea?"

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