A lone silhouette
walked slowly up a fog-shrouded street.
The upturned collar of his overcoat
and low brim of his hat
obscured his face
from the light of passing cars.
he glanced up and down the street
and said to no one in particular,
“I wish I could remember where I parked my car.”
This is a Flash Fiction Friday 55
hosted by Mr. Knowitall.
For more 55's pay him a visit -
If you think Micro Fictions are fun.
Come join us for a Sunday 160.
A challenge using exactly 160 characters
in a story, poem or writing of your choice.