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Rendezvous – Friday Fictioneers

Welcome to Friday Fictioneers, a weekly writer’s link-up, hosted by the lovely and gracious Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Writers around the globe compose a 100-word story based on a photo. This week’s photo was provided by Sandra Crook. Thank you, Sandra. It looks such a lovely spot, but in my story today, a place of intrigue. A little serious, a little silly, using the props of the photo.

If you would like participate, instructions are here. All are welcome!

PHOTO PROMPT- © Sandra Crook

Genre: Suspense (100 words)

Rendezvous 

Martin flattened against the walls. Outside his peripheral vision, a couple walked as one, heads together, a laugh between them; an isolated man dragged his pack on the cobblestones. Someone always watched; he caught a shadow in the dormer at 12:00.

A whistling man approached and bumped hands with him, revealing the  symbol: a flame, encircled and crossed with swords, tattooed on his wrist. He passed a bag into Martin’s hand,  jumped on his bicycle and turned a corner.

Inside the bag was a donut. He recalled the message: sugar of the gods. He smiled, mounted the available bicycle and followed him.

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Click here for more stories from the Fictioneers.

Rendezvous – Friday Fictioneers – 10/26/12

Welcome, Friday Fictioneers. Many thanks to the lovely Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting and leading this group. Today’s photo prompt has been provided by Rochelle.

If you would like to participate please follow this link. The challenge is to write 100 words of fiction, either as a story or poetry, in response to the photo prompt. You may be surprised what you come up with. Give it a try!

I have a 103 words in the form of a story. Comments welcome. Click here to read more Friday Fictioneers stories.

Photo courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Rendezvous

“Coffee?” the waitress asked.

“Please,” she said. “Oh, can you make it two? I have a friend meeting me.”

He was late, which wasn’t like him. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know this place. This was where they had shared a bowl of tomato bisque. Her eyes had transfixed on his blue ones, as he slurped down spoonfuls. They filled the empty spaces with nervous laughing, brushing their knees under the table. She rested her shoes on top of his and he squeezed her hand.

She embraced the memory with a heavy yearning. The waitress returned with coffee to an empty table.