She shaded her eyes
scouring the streets for an auto. “Who will be out in 45 degrees on Sunday
except a slave like me?” she grumbled moving her heavy bag to the other
shoulder. She cursed her boss for insisting she send the report today.
“Hi, may I drop you
|There's something about men |
on bikes.. isn't it?
It was HIM, the new guy in
her society, quite the handsomest man ever.
‘You going home?” His
‘I umm… yes.” She realised
she had been staring and was now stuttering.
What a blessing in
Labels: 100 words, fiction., just for fun, Write Tribe