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Love at Last Sight
Love at Last Sight

© Poumita Paul


2 Minutes   9.9K    132

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'Sana.... close the window baby. There's a lot of pollution in these days.' my mom said as she drove our new Tata Zest through the northwest bypass. It would take 12 minutes less than the main road filled with the hustles and bustles of sunset time.

I always preferred the natural wind blowing my curly brown hairs with the dusts and dirt over the conditioned air forcing its dry kisses on my skin.

'Yes, it's scorching outside Sana. Don't cry later when you get tanned.' Bhaiya joked from the passenger seat beside my mom.

With my already wretched mind after a disappointing Maths exam, I had no will or power to disobey my elders. I pulled the window shields on.

But, before it tugged completely, my dry and mournful cheeks were kissed by a sudden gust of wind, blowing each sand particle off the polished road. A sharp horn made me realize I need to open my eyes.

And there he was..

Riding his way to hell in his blue-white sports bike. His pale skin reddened with the scorching summer heat as his coal black long hair flew with his pace as he rode past us through right.

'Holy hell!' my mom exclaimed. 'These lads of today seems to rush to death this way.' she said.

My heart had a strange tremble at her statement. As I looked through the window, I saw him giving me a little glance. Those emerald eyes! Those coal black hairs!

'Sir Lancelot!' I murmured.

With the constricting shields suffocating my lungs, I craved him like the lady of Shallot. I wish he could take me away with him where the sun would pinch me and the wind would stroke me, the rain would kiss me and smog would dance around me.

I saw him twitch his lips at me and rush away. My heart beat like never before. I wanted to stop him, I wanted him to smile at me and take my hand and ride away.. away.. far away. My fantasy struck the reality when I heard a loud horn, probably, from a sixteen wheeler.


'Fuck!' Bhaiya yelled disregarding mom's presence. My mom gasped.

My heart wasn't beating anymore. The window shields were sprinkled with blood.

I peeked through.

There he was! His beautiful face turned to a red pulp. The headlights of the truck had blood all over.

roads romance accident

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