The following is written for the challenge flash fiction for the purposeful practitioner. Please see their website by clicking this link
On this day the woman’s handbag did not contain anything unusual. It held everything you may think is needed, but there was just something about her that made me suspicious. They always say that after a while in airport security, you just know something isn’t right.
I pulled her to one side and proceeded to swab everything for the traces of drugs. Longshot, but it gave me the chance to talk.
“Sorry about this,” I said as I began my work, “it is just something that we have to do.”
Her phone rang just as I picked it up to drug test. “You shouldn’t have this turned on when everything is being x-rayed,” I said as I mentally made a note of the number. It had originated from a local number even though she had just arrived in the country. “Do you have family here?”
She shook her head. “Just a friend that is meeting me at the airport.”
“Holiday?” When she nodded, I continued questioning, “How long for?”
Her hesitation was enough to set the alarm bells ringing in my head. “One moment, please.” I stepped away from the counter and rang immigration.
She was deported later.