Meeting in Vienna came from a set writing prompt; ten minutes or 300 words, three prompt words (oak leaf, autumn, dog lead), one fact from the round table introductions and a feeling inspired by a favourite song (Vienna).
An oak leaf landed on my shoe, blown by a chill autumn breeze.
Standing under the darkened Ferris wheel, overlooking the river, Vienna never felt so empty.
I shook the dog lead in my hand, calling the Alsatian to heel.
I suppose we looked innocent enough, a man and his dog in the park.
But the clock in the church steeple struck eleven.
The Dutchman was very, very late.