Chelsea Meadows
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CHELSEA MEADOWS
A drabble by Nicki Benson |
Chelsea Meadows was still a mile from home when the teenage boy cycling towards her swerved and almost knocked her to the ground.
“You want to look where you’re going,” she raged. “You shouldn’t be on the pavement either.”
The young cyclist looked at Chelsea long and hard. Chelsea stared straight back at him.
“Sorry about that, miss,” he said, then pedalled away.
The breeze began to freshen. Barbs of rain were already stinging Chelsea’s forehead. It promised to be an unpleasant next twenty minutes or so.
She didn’t mind.
Life was a test, and Chelsea Meadows had just passed.