Arthur looked at the table. What was it with these people?
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t told them before. Last time they’d left it covered in half-empty beer glasses and overturned wine bottles.
The time before that he’d found the table cluttered with bottles of bleach and sundry other cleaning materials that hadn’t been put away.
Today it was set out as a coffee station.
He blamed Guinevere. She was the one responsible for the domestic staff.
He looked up at the clock.
He just had time to clear it away before the first of his knights arrived.
A 100-word story for Friday Fictioneers.
Photo courtesy of Priorhouse
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