The Widow’s Granddaughter

A short story by

J. Timothy King

This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed herein are fictitious or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2007, 2009, 2010 J. Timothy King. All rights reserved.

Published by J. Timothy King.

Revised electronic edition, March 2010.
Smashwords edition, March 2010.
Version 2.00

She was not someone you would expect to make a difference in anyone’s life. She was neither rich nor powerful. She was not vivacious, not young, not beautiful. She was neither a mover nor a shaker. When she walked, she hobbled along, a quad cane in one hand, dragging her withered frame behind her, arthritis-infested joints creaking with each lumbering step. She reeked of old perfume; a small, black toque sat atop her thinning, black hair, probably dyed; and when she opened her mouth, from her shriveled face screeched a voice like that of the Wicked Witch of the West.

I need you to wait out in the car while I go in and talk to him,” Marietta heard the old woman say from the passenger seat.

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