The Cab

You put me in a cab, it’s raining outside. “What are you doing?” I scream above the noise of the storm because you stand there, holding the cab door open with a silly look on your face. “I’m getting wet! Now shut that damned door!” I think I hear the cabbie murmur his agreement but I can’t be sure cause the next moment, you reach in and very deftly scoop me right out of my seat.

“You-“

I stop and squint at your face through the wind and the cold, but the raindrops blur my sight. For a second I am horrified at the thought that you might be crying. You gently push my wet hair away from the side of my neck and you say, “I’m sorry you’re getting wet babe, I know you hate getting wet.”

At this point I stop wondering what the hell is going on because the cabbie revs his engine and speeds off, obviously pissed. I return my gaze to you and suddenly I get mad. Anger wells up in my throat quick and fast, the words come out before I can stop them