The One That Wouldn't Get Away
TN 11 AD 0*1*. It's been almost a month since the incident. The memory is fading, but I still find myself discreetly scanning number plates during my 22-km ride to work and back every day. I'm not afraid of bumping into him anymore, I just don't want to be taken by surprise if he should appear again. The occasional starer is someone I deal with easily - a death glare and a "what's your problem?" does it. The passerby with the passing comment is exactly that. I don't even give half a ear to it. The fellow motorist with the lewd singing lasts but a brief moment; a slight move of the wrist, a little acceleration on my two-wheeler, and he's left behind eating the dust I raised. Then what made Mr. TN 11 AD 0*1* so different? It was his persistence. I don't know when it really began. I was in an exceptionally good mood that day. It had just rained about an hour ago, the first rain in a long time! The Pluviophile in me was admiring the beauty of