Taxi. Insanity.

I get in the taxi and look at the driver who drives east before asking me where to go.
The cab reeks of piss and cigarettes but I’m assuming his odor isn’t much help to the overall scent.
I wonder where he is taking me.
He says nothing as the as the smoke from his cigar circles his head in a halo formation.
I extract the stolen bottle of vodka from my bag and take a sip. I want to make it last.
Clearly over the sound of the engine I can hear the tapping of stilettos on concrete in the distance getting closer.
The driver’s subtle attempt at conversation drives me insane, I take a longer swig with no response.
The rain outside the window is like a reflection of my soul.
The tapping continues, only getting louder still.
The driver pulls into an abandoned gas station and tells me to get out.
I find a cigarette in my bag and light it as he tells me to follow him.
The rain has stopped now and we enter the station.
A gun is drawn, the tapping is closer.
The owner of the shoes approaches through the shadows.
I see a silver pistol,
Hear a click and I am awake.
I sit up with no wound, no cigarette.
I hear the stilettos again.
Closer.
Closer.
Close still.
The walls are white,
But now thy are red.

Taxi. Insanity.

izzilazer

Joined February 2009

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  • CatherineLilian
  • izzilazer
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