Keep that pen topped up


My father’s desk, his books squared against the edge.  Three pens, a pencil and an ashtray with one lonely butt.  I pause and sit on the edge of the bed wondering how I’m supposed to ‘clear’ a dead father’s possessions.  He will be back, surely, to check the ink in the fountain pen.

(Thank you to Sammi Cox for her fun weekend writing prompts – Flash Fiction … 53 words exactly)