100-word Flash Fiction
This week’s story is inspired by this photograph provided by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.
I step onto the terrace of my pied-à-terre.
Dusk creeps in. The pounding rain reflects my resolve.
I watch Édouard as he gets into his black Porsche 918 without a look back. God, I hate Porsches. The car should have been my sign from the start. The arrogance, the snobbery. I always knew I’d never fit into his life. And, now it’s reality.
Anyway, I don’t need him. Daddy left me plenty and I don’t intend to waste one more second on the Édouards of this world.
Au revoir, Édouard.
I dial my realtor.
Then I book a flight home.