The phone buzzes. A horn toots. The buzzing morphs into shrill ringing piercing the interior of the little sedan. It is accompanied by a prolonged honking. It almost drives her out of her skin. Then it begins to rain, suddenly and without warning. "What on earth...?!" Talk of Murphy's Law playing out. "Darn it!" She explodes.
Of all the times and places this could have happened, it had to he here, on Third Mainland Bridge, on a Monday morning. How was she going to negotiate through this traffic without the aid of the bright red L that usually hung on the fender? He had taken it down yesterday when he used the car.
"Ah!!" All those village Air force...
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Beautiful.
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