Zaid never noticed the chip in his coffee cup until the key fell out. It clinked against the table, small and silver, engraved with the number 7. He glanced around the café, but no one seemed to care. He slipped it into his pocket.
Reaching home, he got curious. The only “lock” he could think of was the padlocked drawer in the desk he’d inherited from his grandmother.
The key slid in perfectly.
Inside the drawer, there was a faded photograph of a young woman (not his grandmother). She was standing in front of the café.
The back of the photo read: “If you find this, meet me at midnight.”
His gaze reached the corner of the photo. It was dated tomorrow.
Like this? More flash fiction here.