The idea of Friday Fictioneers is to write a 100-word or so story based on a photo prompt. Several writers participate, sharing links to their stories and commenting on one another’s work. At first, I wasn’t sure this was my kind of thing, but it’s grown on me. Now I’m looking forward to jumping into a new world of writing, hoping the exercise will connect me with other writers and serve as a quick fix of wordplay while trudging through my second novel.
Before I share my first story, let me just say that I’m usually not this dark, nor do I intend to pursue a morbid path. The photo prompt just seemed to beg for something a wee bit creepy. So without further ado, I present….
His Last Ride
photo by Ron Pruitt
Angelique sidled closer to the fat man, as if to claim his protection from the bustling travelers. He reeked of sweat, cheap cologne, and the blood he had spilled in Chinatown.
This one will be easy, she thought.
No one would suspect her. Such a sweet, delicate thing, the old ladies always said. Between the chaos of discovering the corpse and the systematic interrogations by local authorities, she would simply disappear.
A broad-shouldered man in a business suit bumped into Angelique, nearly falling over her small form.
“Hey, kid! Watch where you’re going, would ya?” His New York accent was thick with cruelty and greed.
Angelique smiled apologetically at him, her blue eyes wide and wondering under her golden curls. The businessman would be even less pleased when they found the bloody knife in his attaché case.
Please feel free to leave comments. I’d love to hear your thoughts!