Wednesday's Words on a Friday

 

The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually taken over by a moveable feast of participants when Delores had computer troubles. Sadly, Delores has now closed her blog forever due to other problems.

The aim of the words is to encourage us to write. A story, a poem, whatever comes to mind.

If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please let us know so we can come along to read it and add a few encouraging words.

This month the words/prompts are supplied by messymimi and can be found here

This week's words/prompts are: 

1. parallel 

2. fox 

3. bell 

4. pace 

5. funeral 

6. negotiation 

and/or: 

1. soap 

2. rare 

3. consolidate 

4. say 

5. road 

6. injection

Here is my story:

The bell had tolled, the funeral was over and we mourners walked at slow pace in parallel lines back to our cars. I had wanted to sit beside the grave for a moment, alone, but SHE was having none of it. My stepmother was in a hurry to get home. Wily as a fox, she outlined everything I was to do and say when we attended the reading of my father’s will later in the week. As if I couldn't make up my own mind, or know how to behave. I was eighteen for heaven's sake! 

“There will be no negotiation young lady,” she snapped at me. “This is a rare opportunity for you to do some good!” “For whom?” I thought to myself, and of course the answer was ‘for her’. I knew she had been gambling and spending almost since the wedding three years ago. She needed a swift injection of funds to pay her gambling debts and hoped my father had left her a sizeable amount. Failing that, she hoped I would allow her to draw upon my inheritance. I had no idea how much, if anything, my father had left to me.

A few days later, I stood in my bathroom, washing my hands with my favourite rose scented soap and smiled at myself in the mirror. The will had been read and things were in my favour. My father had known about my stepmother’s gambling and left her just enough to pay those debts. 

As for her credit cards, he had left for her the phone number of a financial counsellor who could possibly consolidate and pay her debts and loan her enough to get a new start, and a train ticket to “hit the road”. A large portion of his estate had been left to a few charities, and the rest, including this house I loved, was now mine.