Flash Friday Fiction


            Photo Courtesy of Sandra Crook

             L’amphithéâtre des Trois Gaules

As a college student, I lived in France for several months.  While there, I did my share of solo touring and site seeing.  Sometimes, I was pestered; sometimes I was left alone to take in the lovely scenery.  Some of these moments came to mind when I saw Sandra’s photo of the amphitheater in Lyon.  I was reminded of some of the more colorful attempts to connect. 

Word Count: 100

Such Gall

This amphitheater dates from the second century, built by Romans.  Imagine sitting here to watch a performance….

Allo?  Pardonnez moi.  Would you mind if I walked with you and talked with you?  Would it bother you?

Oh no…how am I going to shake this guy?  I just want to look around in peace. 

Allo?  Do you speak English?  Ou peut-etre francais?

Crud.  Now I’ve got to politely get rid of him.  Think fast.  “Non, je ne parle pas francais.  I speak Chinese.”

Quoi?  I don’t understand.

There – that ought to confuse him for a while.  Now to quickly move on…


This conversation really happened.  When I said I spoke Chinese in English to his question, it confused him so much he stopped walking with me and talking with me.  It worked. 

Please check out the links to all the other Flash Friday Fictioneers, which can be found here.

© Erin Leary

19 thoughts on “Flash Friday Fiction

    • I did it the easy way – I went to a web page that had it written correctly and cut and pasted it. A work around,, but it was easier than trying to figure out another way.

    • Thanks, Rochelle. I felt like it was a bit of a dodge because it was just a snippet of my experience, not true fiction. I almost got back up in the middle of the night and started over. Sleep won out, however, and your words this morning made me feel better.

  1. Dear Erin,

    Perfect solution to a thorny problem. Loved your use of the French, especially the word, ‘quoi’.

    You background intro and notes at the end of your story dovetailed nicely.



    • I think I neede more than 100 words for the story to make sense, so I made liberal use of the chance to set it up and close it out. Sometimes 100 words feels like a straight jacket, other times it is a beautiful corset that forces things into shape.

  2. Je ne peut parle francais parce que j’ai un carrotte dans ma oreil gauche. Try that one next time. This was funny, darling.

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