I kept glancing at my wristwatch to check the time. The seemingly endless lines of vehicles seen through the taxi’s windscreen were like eternally long metallic snakes with multicoloured and multisized scales. I was heading for the Niart Railway Station which was some forty kilometers from my current position. My train was scheduled to depart at one o’ clock-just an hour from now.
By sheer misfortune, I had been caught in a traffic jam for the last hour. As noon approached the mercury rose rapidly, rendering a he’ll like atmosphere with the blazing heat waves and the black automobile smoke. Minutes passed by but the traffic showed no signs of clearing. It just got worse. Frustration and tension teemed inside me, not leaving any even an inch of hope. Beads of sweat cascaded down my face; sitting inside the taxi was sickening. Every now and then the drivers blew the car horns and swore and cursed loudly. The engines hummed in disappointment and some even let out smoke. I stepped out of the taxi, craving for some fresh air. Making my way through the static vehicles, I finally reached the footpath. It was almost empty-no pedestrian walks on a hot May noon.
The view of the traffic jam from the footpath was shocking. Although I had already given up hopes of reaching the station in time, I lost them all over again. Just then something-rather someone caught my eye. Few steps ahead of me was stationed a jet black Harley Davidson motorbike. Beside it stood a tall man with his helmet on. He was sporting a tattered purple leather jacket and he had a tangle of grizzly beard. Spinning a keychain on his lift index finger he said to me, “Want a ride lady? You seem to be in a hurry-to the Niart Railway Station if I’m not wrong. Jump on my bike. I think we might make it.”
I knew I was an impossible feat but trying never hurts. I had left my luggage in the taxi but it didn’t matter now. Twenty-five minutes for my train to depart. Only a miracle could save me now. And a miracle did happen. The man rode at an unimaginable speed on the footpath. He was doing a wild hundred and twenty and we reached the station with five minutes to spare.
The man left as soon as I stepped onto the station and I couldn’t even thank him. Without wasting precious time I hurried to the required platform and boarded my train. I sat on the compartment seat, feeling relieved beyond measure. I was also exited at the unique ride I had few minutes back. Grabbing the day’s newspaper which was beside me, I waited for the train to depart. I opened the paper randomly and found a coloured photograph of a runway criminal at the top left corner of the page. Authorities were offering a large sum of money for his captivation. He was best known for his uncharacteristic helpful behavior towards women and also for escaping on stolen vehicles. The photograph showed a tall man sporting a tattered purple leather jacket and he had a tangle of grizzly beard. Beside him was stationed the unmistakable jet black Harley Davidson motorbike.
