Wrong Direction

Time again for ‘Friday Fictioneers’. A 100 words of fiction (or there abouts) based on the weekly photo prompt provided. This weeks inspiration offered by our ever fabulous host, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

rainy-night

In the darkened hotel room, clammy fingers teased a gap in the curtains.

They’d found him.

He couldn’t breathe. His chest tightened.

For the last four nights; 7.40pm on the dot, same car, same routine.

Enter car park… One circuit… Stop… No one gets in… No one gets out…

It must be them!

The loot, still in the holdall, like a beacon. His eyes back and forth between the car and the bag.

He dropped to the floor, stone dead!

*****

Mumbling, Sally threw the Sat Nav onto the back seat. Four nights this week she’d ended up in this car park instead of the new offices.

“I thought these things were supposed to be DEADLY accurate”!

6 thoughts on “Wrong Direction

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