Sunday Photo Fiction is a weekly challenge presented by my old friend Al Forbes.
The idea is to write a short story (200 word max) inspired by what you see in his picture (below).
This week’s absorbing photo takes me to a different place.
Not on the far side of Asia, but here, much closer to home.
Click on this link to enter your tale, and see what others have written.
Every major city has one.
Vibrant and exciting, with open-fronted stores selling exotic spices, herbs and roots.
Other, darker, interiors, are treasure troves of strange artefacts, inlaid with writing indecipherable to the uneducated Western eye.
And restaurants, bustling with life, serving tasty meals at affordable prices.
But I am not here to eat.
Nor to browse through the fascinating trinkets, or intriguing foodstuff.
I have a job to do.
He is a middle level gang boss, not a big fish, but significant.
More important is the message.
This says that we can come to their territory and step on their toes.
The police will be involved, of course, which will annoy them even more.
They do not like the authorities to have an excuse to pry.
That is why I shot him in the street, in front of a group of tourists.
There is no way to hush it up.
You might think that increases my chances of being identified.
No one looks at my face.
After all, by the time they realise what is happening, I am running.
And I am wearing a kilt.