Imago: Nightmare in Paris

Second Campaigner Challenge from @RachaelHarrie

The Challenge is:

Write a blog post in 200 words or less, excluding the title. It can be in any format, whether flash fiction, non-fiction, humorous blog musings, poem, etc. The blog post should:
• include the word "imago" in the title
• include the following 4 random words: "miasma," "lacuna," "oscitate," "synchronicity,"
If you want to give yourself an added challenge (optional and included in the word count), make reference to a mirror in your post. For me this was not possible…

Hope you like my flash fiction:

Imago: Nightmare in Paris

A dustbin lid clanged nosily down a back alley in Montmartre. Mariella drifted home casually until the one person she didn't want to meet turned into the street.

The old man stood blocking her egress. Unwashed. A shabby overcoat tied with string, hid an even dirtier shirt. Grubby trousers and worn out shoes in need of repair. He shuffled closer.

She wondered if there was time to escape. It was beginning to snow. What was she going to do? She needed to blend with her surroundings.

‘What brings you to this neck of the woods?’ Randolph enquired, wreathed in a miasma of scented roses, which swirled about his being.

Her senses kicked into overdrive, eyes changed from amber to steel blue, as her tongue darted out. She tasted the air. Mariella struggled to resist its influence, she could not fall under his spell. Not now. Not ever.

He smiled benignly.

She touched her arm, the lacuna glowed warmer than usual, a sure signal it was time to depart.

Randolph let his mind drift. At that moment he began to oscitate, as synchronicity kicked in and together they recalled his accident. He stroked his collar bone. ‘Where’s your fighting spirit girl?’