I was completely lost and had less than an hour to reach Stratos Tower for the presentation. Pacing back and forth, I thought things through.

  The driver told me to just follow the street to reach Stratos Tower, but how far is it? I really hope he didn't just point in a random direction to distract me.

  A flicker of heat rose up at the reminder, but I forced it down. I had no time for anger.

  Half expecting failure, I checked my phone again. Indeed, there was still no reception nor internet. Even the GPS function didn't work.

  Did my phone break? Damn! Today of all days. No, calm down.

  I don't know if the driver was telling the truth, but moving in any direction is better than staying still. Wait, aren't you supposed to stay in place when you get lost? Ah crap, I don’t know. I'm wasting precious time here.

  I checked the time—11:06. A jolt of panic ran through my veins at the sight.

  Still pacing, I smoothed out the creases in my suit, straightened up my tie, and finger-combed my hair with practiced motions. Even without looking at a mirror, I knew I looked picture-perfect and professional again. Ready to challenge the world.

  Comforted by the familiar ritual, I picked up my briefcase from where it laid at the sidewalk, then took off at a brisk pace up the uphill street.

  Fine, let's give it a try. Better to move than stagnate. This is the worst though. Completely lost and now stranded with no way to hail a ride. What if I can't reach the tower on foot in an hour? No, I need to think of another way. This is a life-or-death matter.

  Acting on that thought, I glanced back periodically, hoping I would spot a vacant taxi. Or even an occupied one. I wouldn't mind sharing the ride. I would even settle for any passing vehicle to beg a ride from. Resorting to hitchhiking was distasteful, but it would solve all my problems.

  Considering the deserted state of the street though, I had little hope of a vehicle conveniently passing by at that exact moment. But that was exactly what happened. It was no taxi, but there on the horizon, I saw a car approaching.

  Elated, I turned around and waved my left hand to hail the car. "Hey! Hey! Can you give me a ride? Hey!"

  The car sped past.

  They didn't even slow down. Did they not see me or something?

  On the bright side, this meant that the street wasn't completely deserted after all. I just had to stop the next car and ask for a ride.

  Stifling the discouraging thought that I had just blown my only chance, I resumed my walking. Even if it was negligible, I wanted to cover as much distance as I could.

  At 11:11, I heard the distant rumble of an approaching vehicle.

  Whipping around, I saw the vehicle instantly. It was speeding along at 40-50 mph and would be near me in seconds. I jumped up and down vigorously, shouting my lungs out.

  It sped past me without even a honk.

  I stared blankly at the retreating taillights.

  This is ridiculous. What am I doing wrong? They can't have missed me jumping and shouting like that. The next one for sure.

  Stopping in place, I turned around and kept my eyes peeled. With the deserted state of the street, there's no guarantee that the next passing car would not be the last. I had to be ready to seize the chance.

  I swallowed nervously, hyperaware of the passing time. My chances of making it in time for the presentation was getting smaller and smaller with every minute that slipped past. I held my briefcase in a tight grip, the leather handle creaking in distress.

  Finally, at 11:13, I received my next chance. Like all the others before it, the car was speeding just a tad too fast for what was appropriate in the city. But I couldn't care less. In fact, I hoped they would pick me up and then go even faster. I dropped my briefcase and waved both hands above my head with all my might.

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  "Hey! Heeeeyyy! I need some help! Please stop! Wait, no. No! Stop! Stop, you asshole!"

  My heart sank as the car sped past without slowing down. My throat was sore, and my arms felt like lead weights were tied to them. I might have even pulled a muscle on my shoulder. More discouraging than these little discomforts though, was the bitter taste of disappointment and incomprehension.

  This can't go on. Why aren't they stopping? Am I doing this wrong?

  Desperate, I went off the sidewalk and stood in the middle of the four-lane street.

  Almost instantly, I saw a black car shoot towards me at an alarming speed. It must’ve been going at around 65mph.

  I profess I wasn't that familiar with cars. The city had a very robust public transport infrastructure and was clearly the superior option—or so I thought before I met that damned bus driver. But even to my uninformed eyes, I knew it was different from the rest. It was all sharp edges and painted matte black. I've seen sport cars before, but this car was a notch above.

  Now that's a ride I can get behind.

  "Hey! I'm sorry, but can you please stop! I need some help!" I shouted. I didn't like the way my voice trembled with desperation, but it would hopefully convince them to stop.

  It didn't. The car barreled towards me without any signs of stopping.

  Are you really not going to stop? What the hell!

  With barely seconds to spare, I balked and ran back to the sidewalk. The black car sped roared past behind me.

  What is wrong with these people?!

  I checked the time and felt my heart stutter. It was already 11:14.

  Left with no other choice, I sprinted up the street.

  Barely a minute later, I was gasping like a landed fish. There was an uncomfortable tightness in my chest as my heart pounded crazily. A river of sweat ran down my neck, back, and thighs. The itch was unbearable. Clad in dress shoes unsuitable for running, my feet were killing me.

  I slowed to a stop and hunched over. The brisk, winter air burned on my lungs, contrasted by the blazing heat from the sun above. I tasted something sweet on the back of my dry throat.

  I can't do this. I'm dying. I'm dead.

  My eyes were filled by nothing but the sound of my hoarse breathing—a rattling, pathetic, wheeze that highlighted how out of shape my body was. But I couldn't help myself. I have a genetically weak heart. Exercising in my condition would require more care and time than I could afford.

  Ah, who am I kidding? I was just too lazy to exercise. I swear I'll start exercising regularly if I make it through this.

  I took off my tie and tucked it in my suit’s front pocket since it was choking me. I forced my uncooperative legs to carry me up the street.

  The slope uphill isn't that bad. I can still make it if I don't tire myself out. I can probably jog my way there if I push myself a bit. Running like that was dumb of me.

  Calm down, think. Pace yourself. What do I do?

  I powerwalked, keeping my head on a swivel and eyes peeled for a solution. The buildings on both sides of the street were still dark and lifeless.

  How is the street this desolate? Where's all the people?

  As if in response to my thoughts, I saw a 10-year-old boy just ahead. There were no adults around as far as I could tell. I followed the child's gaze upwards and saw a dozen colorful balloons stuck on a horizontal cloth awning above him.

  Damn. I don't have time for this. I need solutions, not more problems. Sorry kid.

  I jogged past the boy, ignoring the sound of him jumping behind me.

  I didn't turn back. I had no time.

  The boy continued jumping.

  Fine. I need to catch my breath anyways.

  I stopped and turned around to face the boy. "Hey, kid, stop jumping and get an adult to help you. You'll fall."

  The boy ignored me. He saw nothing else but the balloons above him.

  His task was a hopeless one. The balloons hung too far above him. Even I couldn't reach them. I might if I jumped with all my might though.

  I should help him. It's the right thing to do. But how long will that take? There's a dozen or so balloons. I'll have to jump at least a dozen times. Where will that leave me? Even more tired than I am now and 5 minutes poorer. And that's assuming I manage to snag one balloon in every jump. Sorry but I have my own problems. I can't waste time and energy here. It's not like you'll die without those balloons, just take it as a life lesson. You should've held on tight to the things precious to you.

  "Kid, stop jumping. You'll trip and fall. I'm sorry, but I'm in a rush. Wait for the next adult," I said.

  I turned and walked away. I really couldn't afford to waste more time here.

  Then I heard something fall behind me. I paused. Damn it.

  Just as I turned around to help, a yellow bus roared past on the street to my left. The wind of its passing hit me like a wave, ruffling my hair.

  Was that red paint on its bumper?

  I looked around for the boy who had fallen, but there was no sign of him.

  Nothing but an ominous red smear on the street. The balloons hung above in silence, abandoned. I didn’t notice it before, but some of the balloons had a reddish pattern on their undersides.

  That’s an unusual design for balloons. I don’t really get the taste of kids these days.

  I stared at the empty street.

  Wha? What the hell? Where did the kid go?

  I looked up the street, but the bus was long gone by then.

  The bus was yellow wasn't it? It's probably a school bus then. The kid probably got on. Yes, that red stain is just paint. Kids love paint don't they?

  An urge to check the stain rose in me, but I pushed it down. I had no time.

  A drop or red fell from the balloons to the sidewalk. Drip!

  I turned around and ran.