When your cab journey gets very serious, very quickly

“But that sounds nice! No?” I asked, holding onto the handrail as the cab turned a corner.

I couldn’t see much of the driver’s face. One of the small glass windows was slid open, and through it, I looked at his eyes in the rearview mirror.

He glanced at me and shook his head.

“Nah,” he said, in his South London accent. “It’s pathetic.”…

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