Today we contrive stories from a cityscape photo with a narrow street from Roger Bultot. Rochelle has set it all up on her blog and we post as directed by her wonderfulness.
For Friday Fictioneers we write micro-stories of 100 words or fewer given ideas germinated by a new photo on Wednesday of each week, provided by various participants. You can read the rules over on Rochelle’s blog and join in the fun. Here is the photo and my story for this week.
Genre: Ethnic Fiction
Word Count: 100
Title: Crucible Mossad
They stopped jogging.
Chava whispered, “It’s the white truck. Remove the gas cap. You won’t see the nano drone. Wait two seconds, replace the cap, and run. I’ll meet you at Freeda’s.”
Tzitta moaned, “You distract the guards. I’ll be gone before they notice. Sexeh outfit, Sista.”
Five minutes later they ducked into Freeda’s Deli. An old man yelled, “Check the ice!”
The crowd went silent as they sat at the bar.
Freeda looked, “Nu?”
Then an explosion rocked the building.
Tzitta said, “Oy gevalt!”
Everyone stood, shouting, “Mazel tov.”
Freeda pushed sandwiches toward them, “Ess gezunt, ladies.”
Look both ways but take a side.
Mind the gaps, cameras, and guards.
Run like the wind.
Gloss: Nu is a Yiddish expression to ask a simple question instead of using words such as “well” or “so.” Oy gevalt! means oh, violence! It is used to express shock or amazement. Ess gezunt is deli slang for eat in good health. Everybody knows mazel tov, right?