Wallace sat at the table, the same he always did. Gromit would have been on the other side eating his buttered biscuits and drinking his morning coffee. Wallace used to then show whatever wacky new invention he had come up with. But now with his trusted dog dead and buried, Wallace struggled to find the will to do anything. He would spend his days in the basement looking at old tapes of when he used to walk him in the park. He and Gromit used to like to eat cheese and crackers together, but ever since Gromit got run over, the taste of his once favorite snack seemed to sour. He could never seem to stop the tears from falling. Others grow close to their dogs, but for Wallace it was different. Wallace had no one else. No friends to call up, no family to talk to. Wallace didn’t know at first, but he soon came to realize that he had grown old. Time had run out, and he had never gotten even one patent for any of his inventions. Wallace, now a broken, tired, sad old man spent his last days wasting away in bed. He would lay there until the atrophy had taken away what little strength or will he had left. That is when Wallace would finally find his peace, as he knew that once his eyes had shut he’d finally meet his old friend once again.