Micro-nonfiction

prompt: 90 mg "Tattoo"

For all his faults, Dad always had a beautiful signature. He said he perfected it during long overnight work at a security desk for an oil company. I had no reason to doubt his story, although I knew many of his stories were subject to embellishment.

There was no funeral for him when he died. The guys at the bar toasted his memory. His wife took his ashe…