Friday Fictioneers Photo Prompt
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Fortune of Paris
I concede: taking my honeymoon alone in Paris—not my best idea.
Everywhere couples are entwined.
I pause outside a shop with a sign that says “Diseur de Bonne Aventure.” An older woman examines a young man’s palm; they both glance suddenly at me. Embarrassed by my intrusion, I continue along the uneven cobblestones.
“Madamoiselle!” The young man bursts from the shop, French words bounding from his lips. I shake my head.
“English?” he asks.
He laughs. “You’re my fortune.”
“I’m not insane, I promise. The fortune-teller said, the-love-of-my-life will be the next redhead I see.”