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.”…
