He wondered sometimes if people ever thought back to the things they’d done in his cab. If later, when they were sober or home from vacation or just alone, they realized there had been a witness and felt ashamed. He didn’t think so. To them, he was a silhouette through plastic, the back of a head steering them through silent streets then depositing them at their destination, like magic. The things he’d seen. He thought about telling someone. Had even tried before. But people only wanted to know about the sex stuff. Nobody asked him about the things that mattered.
***
Title by: Tomer Lichtash
Story by: Jenny
I like this story!Related posts:
0 Responses
Stay in touch with the conversation, subscribe to the RSS feed for comments on this post.