The black Knucklehead vintage 1940 zoomed across the charcoal road, splashing muddy water on either sides. Apart from the beautiful black vehicle an onlooker could spot something rather mismatched riding it. A sixteen year old girl, in a flared blue skirt and a matching checkered shirt wildly beating away in the breeze. Her school uniform. A messy braid following closely after her head that had an air of rebellion to it. Of course there was a teenaged girl riding a Knucklehead on a winding slope 300 kilometers away from urban civilization, there had to be a lot of explaining to do.
School was finally out. After three long months of maths and science and bad results at the examinations and science teachers going gaga at them, her vacation had returned and today was the only day she could do what she liked.. For extra monsoon classes would start the very next day. The salty air has more than the smell of the sea in it, it was freedom. Short lived but sweet. For, he was still at the garage. Waiting for his lunch, and she still had to make it.
YOU ARE READING
Unfinished
HumorThere's a buttload of stories about girls and boys, oceans and poems, Weird feelings and dyslexic typings in there, but they're all unfinished.. So you tell me which one you wanna know the end to and I'll complete it..