Thursday 28 March 2013

Taxi Driver Man

His muslim cap clung to his head. His long black hair flowing out of the cap. He had a long, gaunt face, accented by a bushy beard that competed with Hagrid's. His head sat atop a thin, rather frail body. Garbed in the white robes of a taxi driver, he sat comfortably in the seat of his Maruti 800. He said he'd been driving her for six years now.

I was stranded at King's Circle for about a quarter of an hour. Exactly twenty two cabs had gone past. He stopped.

Saviour.

1 comment: