Ari loved this short cut through town, the cobblestone alley dipping along. He’d align his tires just right over the ramps, practically gliding. It had become a competition on how fast he could deliver bread to the Shuk.
He was late, again. Last night was a doozy. He couldn’t help but linger in bed a moment more. Not with Amber wrapped around him. Months he pursued her forbidden fruit.
In the midst of his revelry he realized the brakes wouldn’t work. Yelling and waving he hoped desperately the two girls in front of him would get out of the way.
Word Count: 100
Friday Fictioneers is a group of writers who gather each week under the divine organization of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Rochelle provides a photo prompt and we are tasked to write a 100 word story, poem etc. Please make sure to check out other writers fiction. They never disappoint, at least not me.