Sheep Farmer
Yesterday we picked up the last bits for closing our mum's estate, which sounds so grand and in fact simply means paying the government for every tiny thing imaginable. We've known our accountant for 5+ years and the front receptionist, so while we were regretting the process we knew the players. All I had to do was sign a few documents with my name on the line that simply said "for Carolyn ...". As soon as I saw her name, tears started falling, the receptionist who had always been so kind was stoic, she simply put her long painted nail on the line and waited. I willed the pen to move but it wouldn't. The office is in a grand old Victorian mansion and the front receptionist is at the bottom of a carved wooden staircase with harried accountants going up and down. Finally my sister whispered "are you ok" and I put pen to paper. Again, the receptionist carved from stone waited while I signed again. She then silently pushed the credit card machine towards me...