The Signal

I’m early again! It’s almost time for Friday Fictioneers, when writers from around the world post 100-word stories based on a photo prompt provided on Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ blog.  This week’s photo is by Janet Webb.

As always, I encourage you to read other Friday Fictioneers’ work by clicking the link that appears below my story. Enjoy!

window-dressing-janet-webb

The Signal

by Jan Brown

Each Friday morning, he looked for her signal. This week, a formal gown fluttered in the breeze, hanging provocatively from the fire escape of the second floor apartment–the apartment she shared with her husband.

Each Friday night, they met after work at the designated venue. The gown indicated they would meet at Emile’s, across from the Lyric Opera. Had it been a mini-dress, they would have met at Le Bar; jeans meant they’d hook up at Starbucks.

He walked into Emile’s and was immediately met with a strong right hook to the jaw. Her husband had cracked the code.

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53 thoughts on “The Signal

  1. Jan you may not believe me, but I was just thinking that that code was too easy for someone not to see. I can tell we think the same way. Why is it people think they can keep such a huge secret from the person closest to them. This makes me think of confrontations where there is too much dialogue and a whole lot of threats. The husband took the initiative and let his fist do the talking. I like you approach. leave the dialogue for the soap operas or Dallas.

    • Thanks, Joe! Yeah, he didn’t need a cypher to crack that code! I’m sure whatever excuse she gave him for being out on Fridays was easy to see through, as well.

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