HOUSE OF PIES
A man was driving. Me, a girl jogging. As I darted into a driveway, he descended out, nearly killing me. Or very near causing an injury from which it could take days of RICE to recover. From his open window, without hesitation, he said, "I'm sorry about that." I replied, "No problem." It was so clear that our hearts were racing but from what? I know. Love. There in the House of Pies parking lot, no one was thinking of pies. This was the proverbial accident waiting to happen. House of Pies should be renamed Kismeteria. I waited for him to park his car but somehow we got separated. My iPhone battery would not last the run if I didn't leave right then and there. So I ran. I ran so far away to Flock of Seagulls. The End. Another Hollywood Romance.