Perdu and Dod o Hyd

Suitcase

Henri couldn’t believe his luck, stranded at Aberystwyth with only the clothes on his back.

“Don’t worry; you’ll only need your carry-on,” his wife had said. “You can even put your wallet and passport in there.”

He stared up at the station timetable, trying to make sense of the ridiculously long Welsh words, and sighed.

Gwilym, meanwhile, couldn’t believeย hisย luck. As a pickpocket, he needed to be careful working the stations; and yet, he’d not lifted a single wallet for today’s find.

Once outside the Hereford station, he opened the battered suitcase. “Henri, eh? Merci, mon ami.”

 

Carrot Ranch Literary Community Entry

15 thoughts on “Perdu and Dod o Hyd

  1. I wonder if you’ve considered why your victim is French? Some deep seated rejection of a neighbour? Agincourt Syndrome? Someone who displays a subconscious need to put up two fingers to people called Norman?

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Pingback: Stranded Suitcase « Carrot Ranch Literary Community

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