This is in response to Rochelle’s Weekly Photo Prompt for Friday Fictioneers.
Word Count: 100
Called the Fashion Boulevard, with its shining glass exterior, the vintage outlet thrived on many myths. The most talked about was that its mannequins dressed themselves up, each night, as per their individual exquisite fashion sense.
Sarah, a budding fashion reporter, armed with her canon and coffee, waited across the street, to see it happen with her own eyes. Past midnight alerted by a faint rustle, she was about to move in closer when something hit her hard at the back.
The myth survived while Sarah succumbed to a nasty head injury.
92 Words
You can read the other stories here.
I hope there is a part 2 to the story 🙂.
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Thanks Ganga. I wonder what the sequel be like
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Some things are not meant to be recorded, apparently! Nicely done!
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Something are needed to be kept alive, you mean ❤️
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I guess…
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Bit of a clue there
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Thank you Neil
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opps! that wasn’t supposed to happen. hope she recovers from her injury.
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God willing
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Someone wants their secrets to remain undisturbed.
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Absolutely 💯
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She needs a buddy reporter or a cameraman :).
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She should not have gone alone..
True
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No one must know the mannequins’ secret.
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Yep…
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Oops, poor Sarah.
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Yes, 👍
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Good one
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Thanks so much Derrrick 🙏
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Some things are just meant to be kept a secret- great write Geeta 👏
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Yeah, I agree absolutely
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someone wanted the secret kept! Close one for both mannequins and reporter!
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Yes, they did
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Ooh, more than interesting… what happened to that young woman? Maybe more perhaps??
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She is not in a position to give a statement as far as I know…
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Love this!
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Thank you
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A poignant ending, gc. You draw the attention of your readers by your effective storytelling.
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Thank you so much Hazel. Happy Sunday to you
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My pleasure, gc. Have a blessed Sunday too
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next time, she should use a drone. Inquiring minds want to know!
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Drone is a good idea
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Oh no!
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😆😆
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😍
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Dear Geeta,
I guess some secrets are meant to be kept secrets. Too bad Sarah had to learn the hard way. Good job.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Thank you so much Rochelle. I guess that’s the way it is.
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