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Weekly Contest #37
It was her name that jarred me. Miss Josephine Paxton. Miss.A large boardroom table with a dozen seats. Dark mahogany, shelves of worn books, the air filled with dust motes, musty and stale. I wondered if all lawyers had a room like this, or just the ones that served rich clients and read wills to greedy families gathered in the half light. The busy London traffic was humming behind the heavy dark curtains and in that afternoon heat, my mind drifted back through time. Back to the war years, back to my youth, back to a time when I was deeply ...
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