In my years as William’s political aide, I’d mastered detachment… totally.
As he approached, I turned to gaze across the lake. His wife’s arm was tucked in his; they’d made a fine couple, aging gracefully.
My lunch-date was usually late; but not this time.
I glimpsed William’s stunned astonishment, mirrored in the face of his wife. And my approaching son.
The resemblance between both men was remarkable, the same aquiline nose, the head of thick, glossy raven hair.
The mallen streak was, however, conclusive.
The three of them stared at each other.
I returned to my study of the lake.
I wrote this as a banker first thing, in the hope that some better inspiration would emerge. It didn’t, and I can’t sit at my laptop any longer (bad back) 😦 so this will have to do for this week’s Friday Fictioneers. Thanks once again to Rochelle for her engagement over the last two years, and we look forward to her third year in office.