Tag Archives: Old Workplace

Friday Fictioneers – Old Habits Die Hard

ff191114The bedside clock glowed ’06:25′; downstairs, the chain on the front door rattled.

‘Is it him again?’ said Kathy.

I rolled out of bed and peered through a small gap in the curtains.

‘It is – could you please ring them, dear?’

On the front doorstep a confused, hollow-cheeked, old man stood staring in silence at his rusted Yale key.

‘Come in,’ I said.

As we sat waiting, he demanded to know who I was, while informing me, in his usual matter-of-fact fashion, that I was squatting illegally in Middleham’s Motors.

I smiled and stroked my father’s hand as bright, white headlights flooded the courtyard.

friday-fictioneers

These words form my entry into this week’s Friday Fictioneers photo prompt challenge.