Late.A Story by Veronica Nicolestory starter for creative writing last year; He touched the little box in his pocket and smiled, lowering his foot ever so slightly on the accelerator. He was determined to catch her before her flight left, taking her hundreds of miles away from him. Already speeding twenty over the limit, he released his foot, subconsciously tapping it every now and then as 12:50 loomed closer and closer. 12 minutes. Squinting, he leaned forward in time to see the light change to red, and he slammed on the brakes. “Damn,” he muttered under his breath, tapping his left foot impatiently against the car door. Glancing at his wrist, he watched as seconds ticked away. His head began to throb, and the tires squealed as he jammed his foot on the accelerator the second the light turned green again. 9 minutes. He didn’t normally drive this recklessly, but he normally didn’t have nine--or was it eight now?--minutes to catch the woman he loved at the airport before she would leave for eleven months to go to a country so small, only the people who live there remember its name, to make a huge sales pitch for work. 7 minutes. Tires squealing yet again, he turned the wheel sharply and pulled into the parking space perfectly straight; he ought to try parking this way more often. Without taking another second to admire his perfect parking, he touched the box in his pocket again before turning and running into the airport. 5 minutes. He stopped briefly, looking up at the signs that told which direction he needed to go. Turning left would take him to Terminals 1 - 13, and turning right would take him to Terminals 14 - 20. “Damn,” he muttered again. “Was it.. 11?” He pinched the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb, squeezing his eyes shut in the hopes that he would remember. Then it hit him. 4 minutes. He turned to the left, feet pounding hard as he let his body direct him to Terminal 13. 3 minutes. Gasping for breath, he climbed on top of a chair, looking over top of the crowd of people’s heads. All he could think about was finding her. 2 minutes. At last, his eyes landed on the familiar golden curls, purple coat, and red leather purse. “Alice!” he called. She turned, eyes widening upon seeing him standing on the chair, not twenty feet away from her. 1 minute. He jumped off the chair, elbowing his way through the mass of people that seemed insistent on getting in his way. “Alice,” he said, pulling her into his arms. “One thing I forgot,” he said, dropping to one knee. “Oh Jim, are you proposing?” she squealed, eyes welling up with tears. He looked up from his shoelaces. “No, you just forgot your flash drive,” he said, pulling the little box containing the flash drive from his pocket.
© 2012 Veronica NicoleFeatured Review
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3 Reviews Added on July 11, 2012 Last Updated on July 11, 2012 AuthorVeronica NicoleAboutMy name's Veronica. I'm 18. I'm an English Ed. major, and I've wanted to be a writer for as long as I can remember. I never had much confidence in myself, or my ability to write, but then I met my oth.. more..Writing
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