Ethel Thompson, an eightyyearold lady with striking blue hair, perched on the edge of a solicitors chair, tapping her foot impatiently.
MsThompson, what brings you in today? the solicitor asked.
Just my will, she replied.
Very well. Please begin. Ethel settled back, drew a deep breath, and started dictating.
After Im dead, I want my brain sent to a research institute. If the institute refuses, let them record it as coming from ClaudiaPeterson. All my cats, whatever number I have at the time of my death, are to be given to my friends. If I have no friends left, the cats should pass to my son, Michael. Any books that no one wants should be donated to the local library I strongly recommend at least someone leaf through them. Three years ago I misplaced the envelope that held the cash Id set aside for a book fund; I cant recall which one it was. I bequeath to Michael that he should scatter my ashes on a hill in the Lake District.
The solicitor swallowed.
Excuse me, where exactly?
In the Lake District, the Lake District, Ethel repeated.
Thats quite a trek! Why such a complication?
The complication is a ninetofive job and a onehour lunch break. He never travels because of it. Hes always buried in work. I was the same once, and I regret it. He still has his whole life ahead. Travelling makes life brighter; it changes a person. He wont return to the man he was. Let him cross half the country. Ill watch him come back to his office theres no way Ill force him back. He just needs a nudge to see theres another way of living. Thats what Ill be doing after Im gone.
And I dont want to rot in the earth here. Id much rather be sent to the Lake District, she paused, the solicitors lips tightening.
Next, Ethel went on, I want my beloved cat, Misty, to be cremated with me just like in the old days. Im joking, Im joking! Its just that you look a bit odd, so I thought Id have a little fun
Scare you?
Shake you up, she said with a grin.
Youve succeeded. Now about my property movable and immovable?
Right, the flat and the motorbike go to Michael. I dont actually own a motorbike yet, but Im signed up for lessons and will buy one soon, so put that in too. And my scooter I leave to Stepan Nikiforov, if hes still alive. Hes been eyeing it for ages. The last time we rode together he smashed it and flew into a tree
When Ethel finally left, the solicitor called a short break. Her bluehaired visage lingered in his mind. He reread the will, rubbed his eyes to confirm he hadnt imagined it, glanced at the towering stack of papers, and then reached for his phone.
Hey, Jess, fancy a trip? Ive always wanted to go to Kenya
He smiled, realizing that even the most eccentric wishes can spark the tiniest urge to break routine. In the end, lifes true inheritance isnt the money or the possessions, but the reminder that a single step beyond the familiar can turn a quiet existence into an adventure worth remembering.
