The 4am cab ride

It’s an early morning in the middle of september. She just got off the plane from London, it had been a long flight. She was tired, sick of all the noise around her, sick of all the expectations — and all the fake people.

She longed to be alone. She stepped into a taxi, where she was in luck. The driver was not the chatty type. He just drove. Drove trough the quiet streets, glided past the few people who still was on their way home, or on their way to work. Drove trough the night. It was all quiet, just the hypnotizing sound of the engine and the wiper blades going from one side to the other from time to time.

She finally felt the calmness slowly moving trough her body, like she was finally breathing again after being under water for too long.

She smiled.

The driver turned on the radio, “darling night” by J. Tillman was playing — she got goosebumps all over. She loved that song.

She took it as a sign. She had made the right decisions. It was time. They both knew it.

She closed her eyes, and promised herself to remember this moment forever. Her 4 in the morning cab ride — when she finally got to breath again.