Mrs Griffiths’ Gate Latch

Last night on the way home from a rather late stay at The Cross Keys, where I shuffled a few hands of dominoes with the local history teacher Colin; fish monger Carl; and Wade the crop sprayer, I saw Mrs Griffiths’ gate latch hanging off her side gate. Naturally I stopped to take a look, but found it rather difficult to focus following a few tall glasses of World Top. It came off in my hand, so I quickly left it on the floor and continued home.

This morning in my very own Templeton’s hardware store, the clanking bell at the top of the door which either announces the arrival of a customer or a gust of wind (perhaps from the customer) sounded and in walked Mrs Griffiths clutching the broken gate lock.

“The lock on my side gate has broken.” she said.

“I know.” I replied and quickly bluffed “I can see it in your hand.”

“I don’t know how that happened.” she continued, but able now to look at me in my rather bloodshot eyes for the first time.

“Just old and weathered I expect. Can I help you with a new one ?”

And so I managed to reap the rewards from my slight accident and £7.95 sat warming itself in my till.

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