EVERYTHING was a mad dash for everyone. But Abby’s rush was a different kind of mad.
Tonight was a night like no other on the high streets of Queen Harbour, seated a modest suburb of Victoria City in the island country of Seychelles.
Blaring screeches of automobiles ruptured the damp and dusty winds, as sheets of cloud soon gulped in the twinkles in the skies.
Every soul with a home hastened to their humble shelter now, while there was still time left to run.
But it wasn’t for curfew or any crisis that the commuters on Queen Harbour’s streets raced down to their homes. It was rather for the first downpour here already.
And the first rain was going to pour down in some daunting, heavy torrents.
Yet Abby’s haste was a rush madder than mad. But here and now the traffic lights kept her at a compulsory standstill, just ahead of a long fleet of vehicles.
But the lights eventually changed. And no sooner had the lights turned green than Abby’s ride whooshed past the intersection. In one giant dive into the distance ahead.
But then the young woman wasn’t the one manning the racing tricycle. Nor was it her own motorbike at all. But Abby was that woman stirring the man behind the wheels.
Her driver reached a hand at his rear mirror now, and he adjusted it for another glance at his sole passenger. A girl who would make him crash down even the barricades of hell… in an unstoppable race of a bull.
The middle aged cyclist glanced at the 24-year-old. And he marked that the look in her eyes wasn’t like some desperation to reach home faster. Or anything of that sort.
But the fire in Abby’s glowing eyeballs. No they looked exactly a pair of dark embers. In her driver’s view.
And on top of everything, Abby was ready to pay even more stacks of cash. If only the cyclist could be faster than fast.
And there Abby was in the backseat. Restlessly fumbling with her phone, flipping the screen backlight off and on… and shaking her feet in quick, frantic taps.
Suddenly the ebony skinned young woman banged her fist against her seat in a frustrated fit. She glanced out into the clouds right after and drew a biting hiss after her.
The cyclist was startled at the outburst and he turned his eyes back to the streets immediately. He thought the twenty something aimed her agitation at him. But he soon found what the frenzy was about when he looked ahead.
The tricycle dragged to a screeching stop just then. And a fleet of other vehicles poured into the standing gridlock, and halted too.
It was the railway crossing. And right then a moving train was heading close and fast. It was stalemate for Abby now. But then again it wasn’t the end.
Just about now a motorcyclist crashed into the gridlock with a stirring roar. And his sleek black racing bike perched right next to Abby’s side.
The dude ducked instantly and turned his eyes the other way. For he’d been secretly trailing Abby since she set out that night.
Yet it didn’t take half a minute before the racer felt Abby’s gaze feasting on him, and altogether on his posh steel toy.
The stalker turned his gaze to face his quest at last. But he found that those frustrated pair of eyes were only stuck on the steel beast beneath him.
At that instant he got where to give his chase a crazy twist.
Mister Stalker pushed up the face shield in his helmet in a second and flashed a charming smile. ‘Hey what’s up!’ he called. ‘You don’t mind me giving you a faster ride uh?’ he winked.
Abby chuckled at the handsome dude’s guts. ‘Okay thanks,’ she nodded and smiled.
The tall, dark beauty jumped down right after, settled her first cyclist and then hopped behind her next man on the wheels.
And she tightly clutched a black backpack to her chest.
A bag Abby would never let slip. Not even for half a moment.
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© 2021 by Kayode & Tola Olla