Simply 6 Minutes — The Inheritance

This, That, and the Other

Edgar was thrilled when, at the reading of his Uncle Frank’s last will and testament, his late uncle had bequeathed to him his classic motorcycle that Edgar had both admired and coveted.

After the reading of the will, Edgar approached the lawyer and asked where and when he could get the keys and retrieve the motorcycle. The lawyer told Edgar that the motorcycle’s keys had long ago been lost, but the cycle itself was in his late uncle’s backyard out behind the shed.

Undeterred by the fact that there were no keys to the motorcycle — Edgar figured he could engage the services of a locksmith — he went to his late uncle’s property, went behind the shed, and found his inheritance.

When he saw the motorcycle, he realized that, in addition to a locksmith, he’d require the service of an arborist.


Written for Christine Bialczak’s Simply 6 Minutes prompt…

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Simply 6 Minutes — The Inheritance

This, That, and the Other

Edgar was thrilled when, at the reading of his Uncle Frank’s last will and testament, his late uncle had bequeathed to him his classic motorcycle that Edgar had both admired and coveted.

After the reading of the will, Edgar approached the lawyer and asked where and when he could get the keys and retrieve the motorcycle. The lawyer told Edgar that the motorcycle’s keys had long ago been lost, but the cycle itself was in his late uncle’s backyard out behind the shed.

Undeterred by the fact that there were no keys to the motorcycle — Edgar figured he could engage the services of a locksmith — he went to his late uncle’s property, went behind the shed, and found his inheritance.

When he saw the motorcycle, he realized that, in addition to a locksmith, he’d require the service of an arborist.


Written for Christine Bialczak’s Simply 6 Minutes prompt…

View original post 3 more words

A Fitting Conclusion

nope, not pam

This tale was written based on the following prompts

Fandango’s Story Starter #45

Simply 6 Minutes

Twiglet #278

What do You See #133

Fandango’s Flash Fiction #168

My boss called me into her office and silently handed me a piece of a paper instructing me to follow my dreams, and suddenly I was afraid.

My dreams have a way of imploding, but like layers of cloud, his instructions couldn’t be dismissed.

For days I worried, growing weary like the old dilapidated tree which has seen better days, but eventually my thoughts turned to her, and I was reminded that dreams don’t sleep peacefully.

So, I grabbed the flowers and my courage, hopped on my bike and headed in your direction, passing that tree which had stood sentinel with a wry smile.

There was only one way this would end, in disaster … and I was right, as the rain began…

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