“The Bazaar Pass” — FWG Flash Fiction for 4/5/2025

Maybe someday this will be the start of something spy-ish.

The prompt is:

https://pixabay.com/photos/sarajevo-bosnia-market-urban-4505752

THE BAZAAR PASS

The mosque’s minaret stood sentinel over the setting sun as Mollie walked the empty, narrow alleys of the bazaar. It was the time of the Asr—the late afternoon prayer.

Mollie felt the smooth copper pots, still warm from the day’s heat. When she rubbed a hanging silk scarf between her fingers, her ever-present AI spoke through the temples of her smart glasses.

“To steal during the Salah is both a crime and a sin, and will result in the amputation of one’s hand, if caught.”

Mollie jerked her hand back as if she had touched a bare wire. A moment later, the bazaar came alive as shopkeepers resumed calling out their wares, and residents hoped to negotiate a bargain.

Mollie scanned the rapidly filling street for her contact.

Her AI outlined an approaching figure in her smart glasses. “Facial recognition confirmed.”

Stepping into the press of bodies, Mollie pulled her dupatta up across her mouth and nose—more for privacy than propriety. Artfully, both she and her contact paused at stalls along opposite sides of the alleyway, browsing and occasionally exchanging too-low offers with the merchants.

When opposite each other, Mollie turned away from a stall selling prayer rugs and stepped into the center of the street. The pass was made perfectly when her contact laughed and stepped away from a stall opposite without turning his head. His robe barely touched her hand as he brushed past. His mumbled apology, “Ana asef. Astaghfirullah,” I am sorry. I ask Allah’s forgiveness, was the prescribed code phrase.

Mollie demurely bowed her head and kept her eyes on the ground as she scurried down a side alley and darted into her hotel. Locked in her room, she touched the data chit to her glasses.

“Upload complete,” her AI said. “Well done, Agent.”

THE END