Traffic Signal

He was absorbed in curves of the woman, stripped to half, curled up the sofa, enticing a hundred like him waiting for the signal to turn green- in the hoarding just across the fly over. Suddenly, could realise the exponential rise of decibel level of honking behind him, jumped on the race. His horny vehicle rubbed against someone’s wife’s car.

He lost thousand bucks.

Half a thousand to the lady in the car , rest for the familiar face in white dress , always praying for someone , sometime to lose control.


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