
He was a real nervous East Indian. His wife was speechless and his son was sick. A gigantic 5 year old who wanted to be babied. His parents winced every time he coughed. I drove through the freezing rain with a careful hand. The fare was adequate. He liked the cab and felt safe with his family. We parted on good terms.
Friday, December 22, 2006
Taxicab Journals #3
Posted by
Companion of Oblivion
at
6:45 AM
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