Pickup

They walked towards the main boulevard, huddled close together to avoid any unwanted attention from the men on the street who drank too many beers and spent too little time at temple. Their shift had ended just awhile ago and they were both tired. A day of listening to westerners complain endlessly about the wrong color shoe or a delayed delivery would wear them down by nightfall. But they both knew it was a good job to have and with some help from future husbands they would have a good life.

On the main street she was first to hail a cab. A tuk tuk with a broken headlight jostled the thick traffic and came to a stop next to them. The driver stared at her without expression and it made her feel vulnerable. She looked back at her friend but she was already hailing her own ride, her arm lifted high in the night air, as if to grasp at stars. She got in, gave directions and leaned back against the seat. The driver continued to look at her in the rear view mirror as he forced the small car into gear. She glanced back at her friend, in her blue shirt and white scarf and suddenly missed her terribly.

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