I’m a vendor of disasters, selling love at odd hours on a mundane highway. The streetlights play a game of hide and seek with my variables; lying aimlessly on the cart, in the absence of any buyer.

A speeding car reminds me of perspective and I start pushing my cart at a slightly higher pace. But I could never reach that speed, even if I lighten my wobbly four wheeler of the love that I was selling, of the love that was already stale. Blame the rain.

Finally, I see a car come to a halt. A girl. “What’s the bargain?” she asks. Her hand holds a bag of memories, jingling at the slightest movement.
“Love for remembrance,” I say.
“Nope, too high a price,” she says and speeds off…

© Biswadeep

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