The stone bench just sitting there all alone. Waiting, and waiting for somebody to come. Thin king, when will anybody come I am alone. Stone crumbling and falling to bits.
In the middle of the forest it is just sitting there. The leaves and vines twining around the arms and back of it. The thick mud on the bottom of it and stones. The colure had faded while it had sat there all those years.
The stone so cold that you wouldn`t be able to sit down on it. The dull grey spreading even on the stone cat perched on the back.
The cat looking so sad just sitting and waiting. The stone just falling to bits. So sad, so cold. The grave of its owner. Buried underneath the stone curled to join them together forever.