The traffic in New York is always like this. He knows that. Yet, he didn’t leave his office on time. Now, the story that he was chasing is most likely fizzled. Great, his editor is going to roast his head for sure this time!!

He shakes his leg in frustration, checking his phone for the text from his source.

Will meet but only for ten minutes.

She is flighty, he knew that, but he still did not leave on time, getting too involved in finishing his latest obligatory story (that needed to be 5000 words) before the newspaper went to press for the next day.

Biking was not an option by the time he finished so he hailed a cab hoping that it would get him there quicker. Wrong! He shakes his leg in extremely impatience as the light turns red again halting the cab’s movement.

His phone sounds off.

Waited too long, have left. Don’t contact again.

“Shit!” He curses loudly and kicks the seat ahead of him. The taxi driver turns with an almost sneer and Arnav is thankful that he is sitting on the opposite side, and kicked the empty seat.

“Damnit!” He mutters to himself. He wants to turn back around but the thought about not physically scanning the place, hoping against all odds of finding her there makes him continue his journey.

His phone sounds off again and he gets busy with replying to his emails, and scanning the internet traffic for breaking news.

A few minutes later he looks up from his phone, rubbing his sore neck from sleeping in a wrong position while grinding his teeth in irritation at the slow traffic.

He scans to see where he is and glances out his taxi window when he sees her.

She unabashedly continues to apply layers of mascara on her eyelashes framing her pretty bright brown eyes, completely not giving any fucks while glancing into his taxi window. The bright summer sun burns straight into his window, preventing her from seeing him. For some reason he likes watching her. Just an ordinary girl but something about her makes him smile… perhaps it’s the way she is making silly faces while rubbing rose coloured blush on her cheeks… it completely takes him by surprise.

Her bike tilts dangerously and precariously on one of her legs, while her bright yellow backpack is almost sliding off her left shoulder. The gleaming silver jewellery on her bag glints against the sun and he notices the letter ‘K’ hanging on the zipper.

Beguiled at the girl, he places his chin in the heel of his palm, highly amused at her actions, and watches her with a smile.

She straightens her bike, and blows a kiss into the window, appreciating herself. Before he can roll down the window she zooms into the traffic. And suddenly his day is brightened by the strange girl on the bike, applying makeup while stuck in traffic.



3 thoughts on “Drabble 9: Traffic

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