Without Exception by Jasmine Holt

“You're having a laugh, aren't you?” 

“No, Madam. I’m not,” He finished writing out the ticket, pulled the wiper arm out, slapped the ticket against the window and let the blade spring back. 

“I’m here for God’s sake, can’t you at least have the decency to hand it to me?” “I have a procedure to work by, Madam.” 

“Stop calling me Madam! Christ, I don’t believe this. Come on, give me a break! After all, I’m …” “Afraid I can’t do that, Madam,” he interrupted, “If I did it for you, they’d all want a break.” he looked left, then right along the street, nodding at parked cars. 

I ripped the ticket from the window and shoved it inside my handbag, “Well, get out of my way then. I need to get home, I need to start dinner.” 

“If you’re going to be like that.” 

"Like what?" 

"Stroppy." 

"Oh, just do one will you!" 

“Something nice?” 

“What?” 

“His dinner. Something nice?” he winked. 

“No. Not now.” I slammed the door and wound the window down, “Hey!” I called out. He leant down and peered in, “See you at seven, don’t be bloody late!” 

Published in Issue #19

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