Translate 'As Time Flies'

March 31, 2015

Who Blocked My Stint As a Writer?

On a hot humid day as I boarded the last bus on the route I inadvertently became a passive participant in their conversation. Two young fellows were talking about a girl who sat at the other end of the bus apparently deeply engrossed in a book. Intrigued by their tete-a- tete the naive, novice writer in me began weaving a story until Paulo Coelho took over.

“Let’s talk to her. She looks approachable to me,” stated the tall one.
“Fine, you ask her.” Replied the cute one surrendering before the war had even started.
“No, you do it for I find it tough talking to girls.” The tall one opened his heart bare in front of his friend.
“What’s the big deal? She will either say yes or no.” replied the cute on with a bit of valor in his voice.


Temperature soared; my mind started over working as thirst clasped my throat while I sat bathing in the sweat. I knew this was my day evidently; my protagonist took steps towards his muse.

Excuse me, (pause) Brida, he said.

Well, He already knew her name, fantastic, I thought; my eyes focused on the two. Things were moving faster than I had presumed.

“Can you please tell me where you bought this book, as it is out of stock in major bookstore?” ‘Brida’ he said pointing towards the book.


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Ira's bookshelf: read

Dove
Dreams from My Father
Northanger Abbey


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