Friday Fictioneers: Missing in France


“My husband is missing, you must help me!” I pleaded in broken French.

The lieutenant behind the desk rolled his eyes, “Has it been 48 hours?”

“No, but…”

He pointed at his watch, “48 hours.”

“Unbelievable.” I muttered and stormed out of the station.

Jumping back into the waiting cab, I said, “Back to the hotel.”

The cabbie nodded, skillfully weaving through the French alleyways. After several turns, it’d occurred to me he didn’t take the original route. “Stop!” I grabbed the door handle, almost flying out of the cab. There he was, dead as a door-nail, steps from his rental scooter.

(100 words)

Each week, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple hosts Friday Fictioneers where we’re challenged to write a piece of flash fiction in 100 words, more or less, based on the picture above.

14 thoughts on “Friday Fictioneers: Missing in France

    1. I didn’t see that cat until after I finished the story. I’m guessing that cat was just there to find a place to sit. But great question, I’m still thinking about the culprit of his death.


Anything you want to ask? Want to know?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s