Driver, Sweet Lover?

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Alright, so I was working late,
not at all expecting it to be raining by the time I got out of the building. That close to 11PM there’s hardly anyone out on the street, much less a taxi. The rain was falling in thin sheets and I was shivering, soaked to the skin.

The taxi appeared out of nowhere. It must have been that famed break in the space-time continuum that released a taxi just for me.

“Come on in miss.” Big grin. The best three words I’ve heard that day.

While I was trying to piece back together as much dignity as I could in a sopping-wet skirt, hair plastered wet-rat style to my head, the taxi driver went on to explain that he was actually on his way home from his last fare. He just decided at the last moment to pick me up since it was raining and he felt sorry for me, standing all alone in the curb.

We drive in companionable silence, the rain humming, softly muted all around us.

At the gate he makes an extra little inward swing to position the rear door closer to the sheltering eaves of our garage.

“Good night ma’am,” I hear him toss out as I open the door.

“Take care,” I say.

I give him the sweetest damp smile I can muster.


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