A Spell of Amnesia
By Sara Codair
The yellow note was the sole splash of color in the monochrome hall, appearing blank to anyone lacking supernatural sight.
Horacio took a deep breath, channeled energy though the tattoo on his forhead and opened his third eye.
Slanted words materialized: “Usted, dice amigo y entra.”
Horacio spoke, stepping through the door to a conservatory filled with palms and orchids.
“Juan?” he choked on the humidity. “You here?”
“Hola, primo. What can I do for you?”
“Sell me spell of forgetfulness. Por favor.” He handed Juan a fifty.
Juan rolled his eyes.
Horatio woke in a white room with no memory of who he was and how he got there.
© 2016 Sara Codair
This piece of micro fiction was originally written for 100 Word Story’s Monthly Photo Challenge. It did not win, so I made a few revisions and decided to share it here.