This is a quick submission for Mondays Finish The Story. Thanks, as always, to Barbara W. Beacham for the photographic prompt. If you like this, my new book will be free on Kindle (US link here, UK link here) as soon as Amazon get their act together.
(By the way, if there are any architectural historians passing, I know the picture below probably wasn’t taken in rural Colombia but I wanted to exercise artistic licence.)
“Where did they go?” Asked Brett.
“Who?” Replied Monty.
“The tour party,” sighed Brett, jiggling the rucksack strap on his shoulder. His travelling companion was an idiot.
“Jesus,” said Brett, regretting once more that he’d promised Maria he’d hook up with her kid brother when he got to Cartagena. He’d wanted to impress her but if her brother’s stupidity were genetic, maybe he was there was something he was overlooking about her. “The one that was going to show us round the Aztec sacrifice pits.”
“Oh,” said Monty, a little vacantly, “That tour party.”
Brett shook his head. “You smoke all that dope we got in Bogota in one go? Of course that tour party.”
“Ah,” said Montezuma, feeling for the knife in his pocket, “That wasn’t a tour party.”