He rose at dawn, tidied the lounge and polished the silver. He ironed the newspaper, prepared breakfast, opened the curtains, greeted his Master, laid out his clothes, and ran his bath.
Butterworth was a loyal worker, but under-appreciated. Soon he would leave, unannounced.
He rose at dawn, tidied the lounge and polished the silver. He ironed the newspaper, prepared breakfast – then slipped something into his Master’s teapot.
He opened the curtains and greeted his Master. No need for clothes or a bath today.
Butterworth plundered the safe, packed the silver, climbed into the Rolls-Royce and away he went, never to be seen again.
Written for Friday Fictioneers which is hosted by Rochelle. The picture is provided by Dale Rogerson.
I won’t be around for the next two Friday Fictioneers. No, I’m not doing a Butterworth! I’m taking off with my little tent for a couple of weeks R&R and spending a few days in Scotland with my daughter, her bump and my son in law!