"He's breaking all the time!" our cabbie says. He's what?
"The cab in front of me is breaking all the time!" Oh my lord. Somebody stop him. We need time!
And then of course I realize it's just that it's late and I'm skating along.
"He's braking all the time" is all that other car's doing. His backlights flash and flash and flash.
Our taxi scoops around, passes on the right. Bright white bolts of drizzle slam into the speeding road streaming it back out behind us faster than we can parse.
All part of that necklace I wear made of night trips home from the airport.
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