The rules are very simple if you’d like to take part:
1) Write for no longer than five minutes
2) No upper or lower word limits
3) You must write something new
4) You can prepare your post ahead of time but the 5 minute limit still applies
5) If you add your blog post to the weekly linky you must visit five other blogs that week too to show your support
Today’s TIE #FlashFiveFriday comes from Pavarti K. Tyler:
She laced up her boots and set out into the rain. The sky poured down and her thick blonde hair lost its shine, frizzing up into a mockery of her usual perfection. No time to mess with it, she was late.
From the subway it took fifteen minutes to walk to the café where they’d arranged to meet, and she only had ten minutes to get there. Cabs streamed by, all full. Fucking rain.
Genevieve didn’t usually rush for anything. Brooklynwas her playground. She knew the streets by sight, whether inSunsetHeightsorProspectPark. Today, she hustled through the bodies on the street, down the stairs and swiped her metro card at full speed. The train pulled up just as she stepped onto the platform. Thank god.
Surrounded by the bodies of New Yorkers on their way out for the night, the smell of rancid urine overwhelmed her. Great first impression huh? She’d show up with an afro instead of coiffed curls and the scent of homelessness instead of the Quiet Rain perfume she typically wore.
After fishing a hair tie out of her purse, Genevieve pulled her mop up into a ponytail, twisting it up on itself to make something resembling a chignon. In the mirror, she checked her reflection, no streaking mascara. Plus one for her. Finally, something had gone right!
The train lurched as she held on to the standing bar in the middle of the car, Stations whisked by: State, Church, Bowery, thank got she’d gotten an express train. At her stop she pushed her way out, grabbing her coattail just in time for the doors to close. That’d be perfect: Woman dies after being dragged by subway on way to date.
Her irritation mounted as she waited to pass through the tiny turnstile which somehow expected to release this mob into the world. One… Two… Three people stood in front of her, waiting their turn. Genevieve’s stomach lurched. She wasn’t going to make it in time.
She hated being late. A lifetime of lessons and classes and temp jobs had taught her that being late was a surefire way to lose something you wanted. Finally above ground she took off at a sprint, not so fast that her heeled boots would slip, but fast enough she had to duck and dodge around the tourists milling the tight sidewalk.
Stepping into the dimly lit café, Genevieve shook her hair out and took off her coat. The draped red top and tight dark jeans she’d picked out remained pristine, unlike her hair. She approached the hostess to ask if anyone was waiting for her, but before she had a chance to speak a hand embraced her elbow.
She turned, expecting to look down at her date; with heels she was quite tall. Instead, she met the bright blue eyes from the picture she’d seen online. The eyes she’d determined warranted the risk of accepting an in-person date from an online match service.
“Hi,” she breathed.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” the beauty before her’s voice rang out, despite its whisper.
Alice was gorgeous.
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