[personal profile] seymoure

End of the Road

 

“All our final decisions are made

in a state of mind

that is not going to last.”
-Marcel Proust

 

We dropped Gerald off and went back to the office.

To our surprise, there was a man, dressed in tweed and carrying a large briefcase, sitting in our lobby.

When we were unlocking the door, the man stood up.

He followed us through our door and into the office.

Rayleen finally broke the ice.

“Can I help you?” she asked, after taking up her place behind the receptionist’s desk.

“Mr. Savage, please,” he said as officially as is humanly possible. I expected dust to come from his mouth.

I turned to him and held out my hand. “That’s me; can I help you?”

He didn’t take my hand, but instead looked down to open his briefcase.

“Mr. Savage,” he began what was not going to be a chatty conversation, “my name is Oliver Deacon-Simpson and my firm represents the estate of the late Mr. Victor Gideon Malvito.”

“Oh, damn,” I sighed.

“We are here to sign the papers that will make you a very wealthy man,” he said, and then he smiled the kind of smile that would make a reptile tremble.

Here we go again.

THE END



© C. Wayne Owens
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