803

The woman had a furtive look in her eyes, a look of sheer terror. Her actions were sudden, and her lips had come together as if to stifle a scream. She ran up to the lift and jabbed the call button savagely. The lift had been on the eighth floor, her own. She cursed out loud.

She had to get home, she had to get--

A car entered the parking lot with an ear-splitting screech. His car. She felt her heart thunder against her ribcage. He was here.

Black and Pink

She was a woman like no other. Completely out of her mind. She always chose the riskier path. Always. And she revelled in it! It was glorious for her. I haven't met another person like her, who took joy in failing because, "It was just an experiment, after all." A lunatic, I tell you.

But around me, she was totally opposite. Like flipping a coin. Fussy to the point of frustration(fussy is always frustrating, I know). She always looked at me with a suspicious eye, wondering whether I'd been up to any mischief. And as always, I'd disappoint her. But that didn't deter her, oh no! She would be unhappy with me because I wouldn't do anything wrong so that she could fly in as a messiah and set things right. I'd stopped messing things up a long time ago, and she hated me for it. I think she hasn't forgiven me for that even now.