Something non-biographic 1

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A large semitruck slowly pulls up to the crosswalk. With its blue and white paint and large grill; it is a refridgerated food truck. The driver awaits the stop light to turn green. He looks at a group of people crossing. One of them stops in front of him, looking down.

He yells at the little girl. She then lifts the truck casually. "Ah! a quarter," she exclaims. With one hand she pick up the quarter. Afterward she gently lowers it. She smiles and walks away.

The driver is freaked out over the event. He does not dare to move. The light turns green. And he drove away. He can not forget about it.

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