
It happened almost by stealth. Everything looked almost normal, but not quite. And then you realised—the people had gone. The coffee remained, half drunk. The instruments still played without the orchestra. You felt you pushed through crowds, but we never really see the individuals in the crowd, do we? There was only the cipher on the floor and the bright beams as they ascended. Why didn’t they take me too?
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Friday fictioneers is a weekly challenge set by Rochelle Wisoff Fields to write a 100-word story in response to a photo prompt. You can find other stories here