A Flash

He's on a manhunt, chasing a black sedan on his motorbike. The wind shows up the full length and thickness of his hair, he hadn't any time to put on a helmet. All he hears is the roar of the engine at full throttle, pitching up and down as he twists and turns through the small roads. The colour red is just another shade, as they blatantly flout every traffic rule there is.

As he pulls off his sixth apex turn at top speed, the rubber hits the kerb. The back tire squeals in the air for a second, and he leans forward to get it back on both wheels. He smashes down on the gas immediately, the car being all that's on his mind.

He sees her get out at the train station. A few hundred people amble about, and she loses him in the crowd. He is running round stationary trains to find her, carelessly jumping onto the tracks. He turns left and right, but he doesn't see anything. "A few more rounds, she has to be here," he told himself. But all he sees are nameless faces.

Reaching the opposite station entry on right side, he sees a face he recognises. It's not her, it's an old acquaintance. He mouths the question, he responds with surprise on his face. He knows that he hasn't seen her. His heart ramps up a gear.

He scans the horizon for her, but he sees nothing, except a hand coming in to grab him by the throat. He's pinned against the wall, with her left hand pushing his right onto the same brick surface. Despair crosses his heart, as his eyes meet hers. The pale, white face he looks at is accompanied by a pair of vicious looking eyes. Even in death, his heart skips a beat for her.

But without a thought, he instinctively pulls out a gun, firing at the side of her chest. Their interlocking fingers loosen. As she falls, he grabs her around the waist, and her lips fall on his. Her weight soon breaks his limp hold on her, and she slumps to the ground in a crumpled heap.

It is possible she doesn't die, I hope as I awaken from my dream.

July

It's the month of June. A beautiful month, no doubt. There are the new revelations of life, the happenings to be happy about, the feelings to enjoy.

Of course, everything had to be interrupted by the haze. It brought a narrower horizon and many problems to everyone. #&$!* corporations scrimping on land-clearing costs.

And in the midst of everything happening, there's ____________ _________ _______ ______ ______

(Fill in the above story yourself lol).

And that's it. June was happening, wasn't it?







I need a journal, where I can write the narrations of life.