Handcuffs by Lily Andrew

Handcuffs

I’m racing along in my new car. It was a gift from my brother, an old Toyota Starlet with a bright red body, huge exhaust and a flame thrower with low seats and a loud engine. I was on my way to work. The sun was streaming in through the windows. Over on the horizon I see an old woman. Her hand gesturing for a ride. She had a fat ginger cat on her shoulder, her hair in a long ponytail, old worn sneakers and a frail face with wrinkly skin that lay limp on her jagged check bones. As I neared her she gave me a lonesome sad face like a crying child. I couldn’t just leave her there under the blazing sun, so I pulled over and winded the passenger seats’ window down.She leaned in and put a shriveled arm where the window used to be and said “ could I get a lift?” I eased back in my seat and tried a smile “Um yeah sure, where do you need to go?” she licks her cracked, dry lips and mumbles “Airport.”
She gets in the back of the car, I feel slightly uneasy. I punch down on the accelerator. As we race along I try ask her questions like “Where are you from? and “Where are you going from the airport?” she doesn’t say a word, only a purr from her cat.
I have a feeling I have seen her before, as well as the cat.
As we come round the last corner we see a plane take off and one land. I look in the rare view mirror I detect a slight smile on her face.
I pull up at the nearest car park she says a simple “Thanks” and leaves.
I see a little boy waving around the Dominion post and yelling “Woman with cat steals from ANZ bank” I jam on the brakes and see a brigade of police-men run into the airport.
The next thing I saw was a fat ginger cat waddle out of the airport with hand cuffs around its little feet.

By Lily A