The Towel-Wrapped Chic

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Note: Chic is not Chick. Chic means style, and Chick means, I don't have to tell you that! So be prepared to look at the world as a giant chic of fresh innovation covered with a towel. If you want to visualize the chick instead, she enters very late in the story!

At five minutes to 7 he jogged out of his room for the dinner, picking up his sweater and the mobile phone in a hurried haze. In five long strides he had reached both the start of the descend of the staircase and the pinnacle of the blood rush that had been due.

With a precarious step down the staircase his heart registered a seizure and the blackout prepared to instal in his eyes.
Blood rush has always been funny. And orgasmic (to him).

He calculated that he had 7-8 seconds to spare, and thus started the furious chain-of-thoughts game.
He thought he felt like Arvind Kejriwal, who is taking a new step by not-introducing the name of his new party,  but confirming the news that he is, in fact, entering the promenade of lupine personalities commonly called as the spoiled ramp of politics.

Whether he succeeds in inculcating the means, he believes in, in his new colleagues can be left to the argued fourth dimension of physics- time.
Hey, isn't there another such mettle craving news grabber who has taken a bold step recently? 

Aah yes, Priyanka Chopra. Jhilmil famed dudette who calls for clear recognition for her 'In My City' single. Wonder if she'll be the next Britney Spears or Katie Melua!
Unfortunately, yep you guessed it, only time will tell.

And he was rewarded. In shoes.
(Source)
Which reminds of the novel by the exact name by Jeffrey Archer. Long live the prolific author, but his new attempt at churning out five novels in five year, capping a tour across the world isn't going to work.
The best part you ask? We don't need time for this to be figured out!

Uh oh, 9 seconds of the precious life to be wasted in blackout were not worthless after all!
He took a leap of faith for the last two steps but as the nebulous cloud of confidence in the Almighty cleared, he saw that the last two steps were actually four.

He'd read once that Flying is actually hurtling towards the ground while achieving the skills of missing it (ground). He was a good misser of stuff, like missing scoring in surprise tests or missing girlfriend's bickering on looking at a hot chick passing by, but alas! try as hard he may, he couldn't miss the ground.

He hugged the marble floor in a bizarre position with his right feet bending below him at a suspicious angle. He got up, dusted himself and the tickle crept up through his feet.

He'd had sprained his ankle. He hopped around the dark empty road, sending quick prayers to the same Almighty to surpass the pain and noticed an amazing amount of skin peering at him through a room.
It was a girl, wrapped only in a thin towel, freshly bathed, looking out of her window at his Charlie Chaplin moves!

He paused in his maneuvers and reciprocated her gaze, and it seemed to jolt some message in the girl because she flew her hand across the room and snapped the window shut.
Being an incredible misser as he was, he immediately started missing the scenic glory of an amazing amount of skin, but all was confiscated from him in another instant.

It struck him that she might have taken him to be a peeping tom, hopping desperately to get a glimpse of her avatar. A pole was standing nearby, waiting for the chagrin to invade him, but it didn't come, and the pole was lost of the chance to have been nudged by the soft mound of his skull.

His ankle was miraculously cured and he could walk again. Time took an examination yet again, and he passed. The girl didn't though, but he couldn't care less.

He didn't realize that the world around him was playing the same game as the innocent girl. The world is curious and freshly bathed towel-wrapped, but the intention with which we look at it spoils the oncoming change and we are shut out by the expected revolution yet again.

He shrugged off the feeling of shame and popped the second end of the earphones in his canals, of which the other end was inserted in his mobile phone, traversing through Priyanka Chopra's teenage-like voice and flipped open his keypad to type a post on India Against Corruption's Facebook page begging for a hint of the Kejriwal party's name.

The road was empty and he didn't stumble.