| Sowmini SK | January 2025 | Flash Fiction |
I use a cab in the evenings to commute from my office to home. The distance of seven kilometers feels like seventy, thanks to the notorious traffic on Bangalore’s roads. The travel is made worse by the ambience inside the cabs. The body odor of a million other passengers who occupied the seat before me lingers and prods at my nostrils. My intestine tries to somersault from the abdomen and jump out. Nausea is the only prominent feeling I experience daily during the adventure back home.
Despite these internal revolts, today, my eyes shut down involuntarily, thanks to a long day at work. I sway gently to the hum of the vehicles around me. Who would have thought that the sound of blaring horns could have a soothing effect on the eardrums? I drift into a distant land in a fraction of a second. I chase butterflies and honeybees all around a sparkling stream. I open my mouth to sing aloud in joy.
My reverie is interrupted by a knock at the window. I jump up in my seat, startled. It is a strawberry vendor at the signal. He wants me to buy fresh, juicy strawberries. “From Mahabaleshwar, saar!” he says. He assures me that he is offering me the best price possible. I shake my head to indicate that I am not interested. He insists that I try a packet. I tell him politely that I do not want anything from him. He does not go away. I am visibly annoyed.
A young lady on the bus next to me smiles faintly. I smile back sheepishly. The strawberry vendor leaves the place as the signal turns green, unhappy about not meeting his target for the day. I get down at the bus station near the signal. As the bus chugs ahead, I try to catch sight of the lady again. She turns back and flashes a smile. Her lips are red, like strawberries. As lovely as the ones from Mahabaleshwar. I wish I could freeze this moment.
The bus moves on. I sprint ahead to catch one last glimpse of her strawberry lips. She looks at me and suddenly pops her head out of the window. She spits the contents of her mouth and wipes her lips with the end of her dupatta. I stand there motionless, staring at the red stain on the road as the bus turns around the corner.
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Sowmini SK is a software professional based in Bangalore. She is an avid blogger, poet, and playwright. Her book “Dandelions Don’t Cry” is a collection of poems that delves into the intricate tapestry of human experience. When not writing, Sowmini immerses herself in movies, good food, nature walks, and finding inspiration in the simple wonders of everyday life.
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Feature image by Prem Pradeep via Unsplash
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