It wasn’t that Dad’s handwritten will had no date; it did … Friday February 2011. Hells bells and various other words to that effect.

It had been witnessed by Dad’s next door neighbours, Ken and Iris who had owned a little boutique in Bond Street.  They still lived next door, and would have been on one of their many cruises, but this year, were languishing in a Cornish country estate instead.

After much musing, the temptation to finagle had diminished and we agreed to send the will to the probate court to see what transpired.  We made a cup of tea, and together mulled what other little surprises, we might find in Dad’s aged and diminished handwriting.

Post inspired by Denise’s Six Sentence Story Challenge #130 Boutique. If you, too would like to join in please click on the link.

PS – I was challenged by fellow six sentence story writers to pen a series. This is part 3. For part 2 – click here Field. For part 1 – click here Resistance!

PPS – Also managed to weave in Fandango’s FOWC – Finagle. If you, too would like to join in please click on the link.

Published by TheHiddenEdge

I love words - they communicate so much or so little depending on how you use them. Come and explore my thoughts with me in this, my learning journal. View all posts by TheHiddenEdge