The rain was coming down in sheets, blurring the neon signs of the city into long, glowing streaks of red and blue. Elias pulled his collar up, shivering. He had just finished a double shift at the library, and all he wanted was his bed. But the buses had stopped running an hour ago.
Elias looked at the driver, then back at the woman. A strange feeling of recognition washed over him. He remembered this bakery from his childhood; he hadn't been here in twenty years. The rain was coming down in sheets, blurring
The driver glanced at him through the rearview mirror. His eyes were kind but incredibly tired. "Most people think they choose their destination. But sometimes, the cab chooses for them." But the buses had stopped running an hour ago
They talked for hours. By the time they walked out together, the rain had stopped. Elias looked toward the curb, but the yellow cab was gone. Only a small, peppermint-scented card lay on the ground where the car had been parked. He remembered this bakery from his childhood; he