When Nico turned from the market stall with a bundle of carrots, narrowly avoiding buying a live chicken, she came almost face to face with a man so wide-eyed she could see the whites all around his irises. He seemed to have trouble breathing.
“Hey, you need help?”
“Yes?” She drew out the word and leaned back almost imperceptibly, not recognising the man yet.
“But you were in a section of the station that depressurised and exploded. You’re dead!”
That tumbled some old memories into the light. “Martin.” She looked around. “Long story. Let’s talk somewhere more private?”
I'm attempting the April A to Z challenge, with fiction with at most 100 words. "F is for Freaked Out" came from Royce Day.
Drabbles for G and H are written, but if you have prompts for later in the alphabet, please give them to me.