Saturday, January 12, 2019

Carsick

In the taxi coming home from the airport, hoping for a nice, quiet ride after a long flight, but instead, the driver zooms in and out of traffic, speeding up and slowing down and speeding back up again, like a ship out in choppy seas. 

“Remember how I said the driver who took us to the airport drove like my grandma?” I ask Katie. “Well this is my punishment for that.”

“Are you really suffering though?” she replies, her face a sickly green.

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