The Moor

Make Love Not War. The sign flaps in the wind as the dark skin man sitting cross-legged on the cobblestone road plays his guitar. The guitar case lies open at his feet—a few dollars, anchored by stacks of quarters, inside.

“Why does everything have to be political?” Bryan asks. His wife has stopped to listen to the music, dig some change from the bottom of her purse, but Bryan notices the sculptures on either side of the guitarist. A crescent and star painted on one bull’s horn, the other’s ear—a universal symbol of Islam. The word “peace,” its presumed translations in foreign script.

“Darling, how can love be political?” Janice claps her hands over her head, spins in a circle, and stomps her feet like a Spanish Flamenco dancer. The wind lifts the hem of her skirt over her knees.

Bryan shrugs. “I just don’t like being told something obvious.”

“That’s the problem of this world,” Janice says. “It’s not always obvious.” She folds a twenty and drops it into the guitar case.

word count: 175

—Nortina


photo-20160328032234526Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers is a weekly challenge where you write a story in 75-175 using the provided photo prompt as inspiration. Click the froggy icon to read other stories inspired by the photo and add your own.

 

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