‘The stupid, old bastard.’
‘He didn’t know he was going to die, did he?’
‘Of course he knew he was going to die! We all die. That’s life’s only guarantee.’
‘But he didn’t know he was going to die just then.’
‘So? He promised me the house; will or no will. He owed me that much. I was the one that stayed when they all left to get on with their own lives; I was the one that looked after him and the house. Now those feckers want it sold.’
‘Don’t Paul me. It’s not you that’ll be homeless.’
A drabble is a story of exactly one hundred words.