Harry leans on the jetty railing. He reaches inside his jacket and pulls out a LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT, tied with a red ribbon. He broods over the Will, flapping it against the palm of his hand.
PARTING TOUCHES BY MARK JONES 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 090
This long-haired red-haired woman stalks back and forth shouting at her phone, stabbing the air with her free hand. You know what? You cheated me!! I don’t respect you. I can never trust you. She throws herself on the bus stop bench next to Harry and starts texting.
Harry immaculate in a black suit, black tie, white gloves, Venezuela-style six-star general’s cap, opens a frosted-glass door.
The boss doesn’t even look up. He’s scheduling the limo fleet, thick goggles reflecting the computer glare. Hey! You got the Mayor today.
Harry grabs the keys off a board.
Mayor wants you to wait, they got this event at the shopping mall, the boss says.
Can I keep the limo overnight? The boss grunts.
Harry takes the silver stretch limo through the City, picks up the Mayor and some PR floosey, pulls into a shopping mall car park. Mayor and twittering woman climb out, we won’t be long.
Harry reaches inside his jacket and pulls out THE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT, tied with a red ribbon. He flaps it against the palm of his hand.