Stoner

One afternoon, a foreign worker was cycling along the busy Jalan Ampang on a tricycle. And busy it was.

He was bringing along stuff he'd gather along his daily trip. Stuff he'd use, or sell. Everything is valuable for someone like him;

or everything is actually valuable, but only someone like him can understand and appreciate the value.

He didn't realize that he dropped his slippers.
His slipper, from his left feet.
When he did, seconds later,

he stopped pedalling, and the tricycle glided 

as he (I assumed) thought the idea over; whether he should stop, as he hit the brakes,
too little to stop but enough to show that he was halfway through the idea.

And then he turned his head around, 

looked at the cars closing up on him, 

and continued to pedal, with one slipper on his right feet.