Party Crashed

Julien Martin’s speech was interrupted when a man slid down the banister and was tripped by a woman. The woman put her foot on his chest. “Interpol”, she said, flashing her badge, “Where are the girls?”

The man replied with crude, misogynistic remarks. She called for backup. The man made noises, there were beeps, and the lights flickered. A serving lady hit Julien Martin upside the head with her tray as the swat team entered. “He’s behind the ring”, the serving lady said.

“M. Martin, you are under arrest for human trafficking”, the Interpol agent said.

This is a post for Friday Fictioneers by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, photo by Roger Bultot


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Christian, freethinker, believer, skeptic, seeker.

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