the boy calls over a taxi with a feeble wave of his hand
he climbs into the vehicle and directs the driver where to go
after the boy reaches his destination and leaves the taxi,
the driver twists around to check the backseat - just in case
the boy had left a brand new laptop, marked with a tiny sticky-note
the driver rolls down the window and tries to call the boy back
but he has already disappeared
the driver shrugs and drives off, not giving a care
little does he know the boy's fate
in what is now
thirty-six minutes.
YOU ARE READING
stationary.
Poesialouis has only one hour, which is enough; for time had never seemed to affect him © 2014 by finallyawake. all rights reserved.
