!["Art?" Flash Fiction [Friday Fictioneers]](https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/571ea5f8a3360cf11eb75d3f/1473901301512-9DCK3Y29O20248KSNDR0/fftoday.jpg)
This flash fiction short story is part of the Friday Fictioneers challenge, courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. If you want to give it a try, check the info on her blog. Stories are to be 100 words more or less, inspired by the photo she posts on Facebook each week.
“Hmmm, yes.” The round little man stroked his chin. “No, I get it now. It’s sort of…industrial.” His eyes shifted sideways to his companions to ascertain whether or not they agreed.
“Absolutely!” Sandra gushed, smoothing her crimson dress. “A piece like this doesn’t come along often.”
“We have other buyers looking at it tomorrow.” George prodded.
“What’s the price? And the name?”
“Ten thousand.” George replied. “And it’s called Cylinders.”
The man nodded slowly. “I’ll take it.”
Sandra and George escorted him to his car. Sandra’s lips froze in a smile, her hand erect in a wave as she murmured, “Chump.”
Check out more stories here.
XOXO,
S.M. Peterson