Short Story: Traffic
Traffic
Date Started: Sometime Around November Last Year
Date Finished: February 11, 2005
A faint sound can be heard inside the shop, over the old fan's wheezy whirring. The fragrant aroma of flowers overpowered the fresh air.
"A dozen roses?"
"Yes." I took out a few bills and placed them on the table.
She took the flowers I picked out, delicately wrapping them in a plastic wrapper and ribbons.
"Do you want a card to go with that?" She was looking at the road.
"Sure."
She handed me the flowers. "Isn't your car on the road?"
She always talked with a certain aura of flirtation, probably because I've been buying roses from her since High School. "Yes, it is. But the MMDA's still removing the water blocking the road, so the traffic won't move any time soon."
"Nice coat and tie." She took the bills, and pushed some back to me. "Discount. You've been cleaning out my roses ever since last year."
I cradled the elegant package in my arms and walked outside. It was still raining, so I made sure that the flowers wouldn't get wet. As expected, my car was still stuck in the same spot, and traffic hasn't moved yet. With a faint bleep, the car opened up and the flowers soon ended up lying down the back seat of my car.
Some of the drivers were already going back to their vehicles. To sit down inside their vehicles perhaps.
I opened the door, took off the coat and hung it on the headrest of the passenger seat. Usually, during these situations, Erika would already be breathing softly as she stirs, head resting on the right side of the headrest, sleeping the traffic away. The airconditioning would often make a loose strand or lock of her long hair sway a little...
Cars were blowing their horns way at front. The siphoning was a success.
I took my keys and started up. Typically, she'd be awakened by the car rumbling, and immediately straightens herself up, sitting properly while saying "What happened?" for about two to seven times. Then she'd notice the loose strand or lock and she'll tuck it back behind her ears.
Traffic was moving, at last. The flood waters caused around three hours worth of waiting. Luckily I parked near KFC and the flower shop, so I spent my time there.
Still, with the traffic finally inching along, I don't think that I'd really make it in time. Traffic is way, way long and the movement speed is really, really slow. In fact, I'd be lucky if I make it at the next hour.
Oh well. This would be the last day she'd be here. Hence the fancy get-up and roses.
She'd be telling me all sorts of stories and asking all sorts of questions right now. Or she'd pull out a CD from the glove compartment and play it. She doesn't mind listening to the stuff I listen; in fact I think she likes listening to any kind of music. She'd sing out loud if she knew the song. I'd always sing along with her, or I'd sing the song if she doesn't sing it. Such was the effect of boredom.
I think I moved around 500 meters for the last 30 minutes. Yup, I can't make it in time.
I frowned. Everything seemed so... gray, somehow. She'd be angry. But I have no other chance to say sorry.
It seemed weird that I chose to wear the suit. Maybe it was because she'd be wearing an elegant gown for today. It would be wasted if I let it get creased, so I took it off and laid it down carefully on the passenger seat.
The roses were beginning to show their dislike for the cold air within the vehicle. They longed for the warm, moist air outside. I can't do anything about it, though.
An hour within the drive, and I'm still nowhere near my destination. What was once a long strip of asphalt had been turned into a stream of red and yellow lights. A stream made of viscous liquid that seemed to flow as slow as a crippled snail.
This would be the last time I'd see her.
The rain poured again. I couldn't see what's in front of me. Everything mixed into the worst disaster, coupled with my supposed appointment with the girl that made my heart beat.
With frustration taking over, I just let my head hit the steering wheel. The car horn filled the night air with a long beep that irritated most people on the road. I didn't mind.
With this pile of man-made iron horses between me and her, I resigned myself to the fact that the chance of getting there on time was equal to the chance that I'd be able to hold her warm hands and see her face blushing and full of life.
The grave seemed so far away. Yet, the sorrow it radiated still shackled my heart.
Date Started: Sometime Around November Last Year
Date Finished: February 11, 2005
A faint sound can be heard inside the shop, over the old fan's wheezy whirring. The fragrant aroma of flowers overpowered the fresh air.
"A dozen roses?"
"Yes." I took out a few bills and placed them on the table.
She took the flowers I picked out, delicately wrapping them in a plastic wrapper and ribbons.
"Do you want a card to go with that?" She was looking at the road.
"Sure."
She handed me the flowers. "Isn't your car on the road?"
She always talked with a certain aura of flirtation, probably because I've been buying roses from her since High School. "Yes, it is. But the MMDA's still removing the water blocking the road, so the traffic won't move any time soon."
"Nice coat and tie." She took the bills, and pushed some back to me. "Discount. You've been cleaning out my roses ever since last year."
I cradled the elegant package in my arms and walked outside. It was still raining, so I made sure that the flowers wouldn't get wet. As expected, my car was still stuck in the same spot, and traffic hasn't moved yet. With a faint bleep, the car opened up and the flowers soon ended up lying down the back seat of my car.
Some of the drivers were already going back to their vehicles. To sit down inside their vehicles perhaps.
I opened the door, took off the coat and hung it on the headrest of the passenger seat. Usually, during these situations, Erika would already be breathing softly as she stirs, head resting on the right side of the headrest, sleeping the traffic away. The airconditioning would often make a loose strand or lock of her long hair sway a little...
Cars were blowing their horns way at front. The siphoning was a success.
I took my keys and started up. Typically, she'd be awakened by the car rumbling, and immediately straightens herself up, sitting properly while saying "What happened?" for about two to seven times. Then she'd notice the loose strand or lock and she'll tuck it back behind her ears.
Traffic was moving, at last. The flood waters caused around three hours worth of waiting. Luckily I parked near KFC and the flower shop, so I spent my time there.
Still, with the traffic finally inching along, I don't think that I'd really make it in time. Traffic is way, way long and the movement speed is really, really slow. In fact, I'd be lucky if I make it at the next hour.
Oh well. This would be the last day she'd be here. Hence the fancy get-up and roses.
She'd be telling me all sorts of stories and asking all sorts of questions right now. Or she'd pull out a CD from the glove compartment and play it. She doesn't mind listening to the stuff I listen; in fact I think she likes listening to any kind of music. She'd sing out loud if she knew the song. I'd always sing along with her, or I'd sing the song if she doesn't sing it. Such was the effect of boredom.
I think I moved around 500 meters for the last 30 minutes. Yup, I can't make it in time.
I frowned. Everything seemed so... gray, somehow. She'd be angry. But I have no other chance to say sorry.
It seemed weird that I chose to wear the suit. Maybe it was because she'd be wearing an elegant gown for today. It would be wasted if I let it get creased, so I took it off and laid it down carefully on the passenger seat.
The roses were beginning to show their dislike for the cold air within the vehicle. They longed for the warm, moist air outside. I can't do anything about it, though.
An hour within the drive, and I'm still nowhere near my destination. What was once a long strip of asphalt had been turned into a stream of red and yellow lights. A stream made of viscous liquid that seemed to flow as slow as a crippled snail.
This would be the last time I'd see her.
The rain poured again. I couldn't see what's in front of me. Everything mixed into the worst disaster, coupled with my supposed appointment with the girl that made my heart beat.
With frustration taking over, I just let my head hit the steering wheel. The car horn filled the night air with a long beep that irritated most people on the road. I didn't mind.
With this pile of man-made iron horses between me and her, I resigned myself to the fact that the chance of getting there on time was equal to the chance that I'd be able to hold her warm hands and see her face blushing and full of life.
The grave seemed so far away. Yet, the sorrow it radiated still shackled my heart.