It is Sunday of the new year.  I’m a little late for the ball but what the heck. Better late than not showing up.  So here’s my story for the Friday Fictioneers. We are storytellers of 100 words or so.  We are hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields of Addicted to Purple.  Here’s this week’s photo prompt.

Copyright Jean L. Hays

Copyright Jean L. Hays

She saw the coffee shop as soon as she emerged from the subway station.  It was exactly where he had said.  She stood for a moment then walked to the door.  It was now or never.

She scanned the room quickly.  The faces were all blurry.  Her breath was ragged and her heart thumped.

“Slow down.  Take your time.”  She scolded herself.

“May I help you?”  A waitress came up.

“I’m meeting someone.”

“Do you want to walk through to see?”

“Thank you.  I don’t know what he looks like.  I haven’t met him before.”

The waitress raised her eyebrows.


About hafong

Hello! My name is (Leung) Hafong alias Lily Leung. You always say the last name first….that is the Chinese way. That is my partner lurking behind me. Since this is my blog, I won’t mention his name. But this is a rather cool picture. You see me and yet you don’t…sort of the way I feel about myself most of my life. So this blog is a self-exploration, an archeology dig of some sort. My tools…..words of a thousand or so at a sitting. I will try for that.
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9 Responses to THE MEETING

  1. Dear Lily,

    Oh those blind dates. You captured her excitement and apprehension beautifully.

    Shalom and Happy New Year,


  2. There are probably more of those kinds of dates with computer dating these days. I’d be nervous also. Well done, Lily. Happy New Year to you and yours. 🙂 — Suzanne

  3. mjlstories says:

    A modern dilemma! Did she remember to put a rose between her teeth so at least she could be recognised?

  4. Lux G. says:

    Gosh, I haven’t had that experience before. 🙂
    Happy 2016!

  5. Ah.. Still no real resolution. I wonder if reality will prove it’s Mr Right this time. I guess everyone had a carnation in their buttonhole

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