The Long Gallery is destroyed. Heirlooms and furniture are reduced to dust. The pool table in the centre of the room has perished. Only the portraits have survived, generations of the family she hastily married into.

Her husband waits in a chair, ignoring the laminated sign that reads DO NOT SIT ON THIS CHAIR – IT IS VERY OLD. She assumes he is responsible for the blaze, a desperate attempt to save their estate from dwindling visitor numbers and financial ruin.

Without warning he lunges at her, armed with a pool cue, the final element of his insurance claim outstanding.


A 100 word story based on the photo prompt from the Friday Fictioneers.

Photo (c) J Hardy Carroll


18 thoughts on “Windfall

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