cabcat: (pleasant)
Not sure how good these will be more just an experient in writing and using bits and pieces of ideas I came up wtih created for and in the world of "Aurora Cab"
Aurora Cab Driver log:
UTC Time: 5:56pm, Sunday  14/10/1166
Driver:  Marco Petembe Mallory
Licence/TRP: 77300223-63DD
Vehicle:  Volston VGZ

Pickup: 4/12235 Sir Sesle Eagleridge Drive, Ascot Hills, Aurora City NE2
Destination:  Heron Port Terminal C, Sandstone Point, Aurora Bayside NE45

Upmarket area, had some calls from here, not a lot though. People here usually book local services and not cosmogate taxis for Aurora City region destinations.  The house, impressive but designed to be so and sadly showing a lack of taste to anyone not impressed.  She closes the house door and pulls a suitcase over the manicured lawn leaving furrows.  I quickly get out to help her with the suitcase, she stutters her thanks and I can see she's upset but not at me at something else.  I load the suitcase carefully into the boot of the taxi, she's already sitting in the back and I know already she won't talk during this journey unless she has to.

You learn pretty quickly when people don't want to talk and not to try and make conversation.  I only double check the destination she wants to go and ask if she minds the radio, she says she doesn't mind and moves her troubled gaze back out the window.  Traffic is light heading out to the Bayside at this time of the week, everyone's coming back not going out.  She's still looking out the window hands together in her lap, thumbs rubbing over each other in anxiety.  I know she's running from something, she's not in danger but anxious about the future.  I've seen that look enough times now to know even before I knew her destination.  You only go to Sandstone point for two things, cruise ships or the ferries for Douglas Bay in Sarllive.  I know which one she's getting on.

She's still looking out the window, though her anxiety is now replaced with a sadness in her eyes.  She's slowly tracing little circles in the corner of the passenger window as I smoothly sidle the taxi into the yellow zone of terminal C.  She refocuses as I show the meter and ask how she wishes to pay, judging by her eyes she's paid for something already in life.  She pays in universal credits and I quickly get out to get her suitcase before she tries to get it on her own and place it on the footpath next to her.  I ask her if she'll be alright, she looks at me with those sad eyes and as she turns away, grabbing her suitcase handle, she gives me a smile.  It's not a happy smile and she knows I've seen it before on many faces and what it means.  "In time I think..." she says and she pulls her suitcase away, trundling on those little wheels, through the terminal doors.   She's leaving but she's left something here, I don't know what it is but I know to leave she had to leave some part of herself here.  I blink once or twice and make my way back to my taxi, I look in my rear view mirror at the empty back seat and I briefly see the ghost of her drawing circles on the window glass.  My attention is then taken by someone signalling in time honoured fashion for service and I reset the meter and move forward.

Hail and ride my friend, hail and ride.
Page generated Sep. 20th, 2017 07:35 am
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