50-word Microfiction on the prompt “signs”
“Look, a black cat, it’s bad luck,” said Lily, while crossing the road.
“I consider superstition gibberish,” responded Mary.
A car suddenly zoomed at them, while they froze, speechless.
“Drunken driving,” said the officer.
Mary had escaped unscathed.
Lily’s service was quiet and sad.
Mary never took omens lightly thereafter.