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Weekly Contest #90
John was sitting in his father’s chair in his father’s study. The house had a damp, unlived-in feel about it. His mother had died a couple of years earlier and his father, Bradley, had lived alone there since her death. John imagined he could smell roast dinner being cooked by his mother in the kitchen and hear his father shouting at a political broadcast on the television. As he surveyed the room he spotted a ball of screwed-up paper lying on the floor where his father had attempted to throw it in the bin. Near the bin, a bookshelf in the...
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