3) Hill

March 2, 2013 § 3 Comments

She pushed her bike up the hill, her thick legs had given up half way along the steep rise. Her calves screamed and her face flushed boldly as hot veins pulsed around her heaving, aching body.

“Maybe he’ll drive by,” she thought to herself, as she always did at this part of her journey home.

The soft moonlight hit fast cars’ bonnets as they sailed by through the murky air. Their bright headlights shadowing the front window, making it impossible for her to see who was driving.

She squinted at each passing vehicle, trying to make out a glimmer of his face in the dark, even at trucks although that was ridiculous. He didn’t own a truck. He owned a blue car.

A blue car and her. But he never brought her for a drive.


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§ 3 Responses to 3) Hill

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