VisDare 54: Covert


Lord Reginald the Fraudulent stepped out of his solicitor’s offices onto Pembroke circle and into a slushy puddle left by a semi-attentive street sweeper. His socks soaked instantly – the holes in the bottom of his shoes were growing and multiplying, and he feared what would happen when he could no longer contrive of ways to keep them from falling apart entirely.

The snow was wet and heavy, and Reggie pulled his coat up higher over his face. It was a nice coat, made of the finest wool, hand stitched by the finest tailors on this side of the English Channel. It was warm and luxurious, and none of the men at any of the clubs at which Reg used to hold a membership wore better. But it was also the last item of quality he owned, and if his solicitor was correct, soon to become nothing more than a memory.


One Response to “VisDare 54: Covert”

  1. I can almost feel his desperation (and I love how he refers to himself as Lord Reginald the Fraudulent). I’m intrigued by his story, and how he was brought low. Bad luck? Bad management? Gambling? Beautifully written!

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