I watched her walk by, she didn’t look uneasy. She looked rather tired. She opened the door and flung herself into the seat. The door slammed wildly shut. I looked at her through the side mirror then looked out for the driver.
Slowly, very slowly, the taxi was packed full. At this time, I was relocated to the back seat with two friends occupying the front seat. (they were later to find out that they had to pay full price for 2 even though they occupied just one seat)
The driver’s face was as blank as the long, windy, dusty road. We spoke no words; both passengers and driver – perfect strangers, all six of us. Halfway through the journey, she yells at the driver to speed-up. I thought with her head thrown back on the seat, she was asleep. We both got off at the same point and much to my indifference, we walked the same path home. Then she felt it necessary to break the ice.
“I always thought I was tall until I saw you. You see, that’s why the Bible says that if you think your situation is bad, someone else has it worse”
What? When did being tall become something unpleasant? I thought, as we walked on silently; conscious of my ill 6’0 height towering over her not-so-ill 5’10.