microfiction (episode 1-pilot)

Ky was habitually late. To weddings. To funerals. Parent-teacher conferences. Dental appointments (scurrying to make the grace period cut-off). And after encountering 3 consecutive red lights, she knows she’ll be late yet again. Ky bangs her fist against the car’s steering wheel in frustration. This is done more as a performance than a genuine show of emotion. Who is she performing for? It’s anyone’s guess. Perhaps it’s for the strangely attractive androgynous human driving a teal Toyota Corolla in the lane adjacent. Or maybe it’s for the traffic camera just above the stoplight. Ky always believed she’d make a fine screen actress. But opportunities are scarce. As she and her trusty vehicle idle, Ky conjures up an image of the person in charge of watching traffic footage taken from the intersection of 12th and Montgomery. She becomes so lost in thought, she barely registers the sound of the car horn just behind, alerting her to the fact the light had changed.


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