Breaking the Line

I flashed what I hoped was a winning smile.  “How about a lift to the airport?”

“I'm going to La Paz.  I need to get – sure, por que no?  It isn't much out of the way.  Get in.”

I did.  She did too.  We headed north.

“Teresa,” she said, offering her hand without taking her eyes off of the road.

“Dylan.  I hope the detour isn't a big inconvenience.”

“I'm already going to be late because of the tire.  If not for you....  I can be a few minutes more.”

About me

This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)