One day, while I was driving my red convertible through town, two young women waved me over.
فَذَاتَ يَوْمٍ ،‏ فِيمَا كُنْتُ أَقُودُ سَيَّارَتِي ٱلْحَمْرَاءَ ٱلْمَكْشُوفَةَ ،‏ أَوْقَفَتْنِي فَتَاتَانِ .‏