It Could Be Anything, but It Might Be Something

October 27, 2010
By truepoetry1 BRONZE, Crested Butte, Colorado
truepoetry1 BRONZE, Crested Butte, Colorado
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

A crashing cascade of honking horns, blurred voices, and the general hum of background noise in New York City greeted Joey the moment he stepped out of the sleek, imposing Doo Pas office tower.
With one stern flick of his hand, a taxi stopped in front of Joey. The repulsing smell of smoke, slowly rotting food, and who-knows-what wafted out from the taxi. As Joey threw himself onto the long since comfortable or fluffy seat cushions, a cloud of dust settled over his expensive, crisp business suit. The burly cab driver admitted a sound akin to a warbling trombone, “Where ’am I supposed ta take ya?”
“Over to 52nd and Broadway, please” replied Joey with what he hoped was the correct answer to whatever question the driver had just asked. The sound of honking horns blared even louder as the driver pulled an illegal U-turn to the other side of the street. The cab’s wheels uttered a shriek under the stress of the sharp turn.
Watching the blurred lines of people bustling by, Joey tried his best to find a position where the hard metal bars of the seat were not plowing into his back. Suddenly, a paralyzing shock came over him, patting all over his body. Joey had a look of utter despair etched into his face. Wasn’t his wallet in his pocket? Maybe it was in his briefcase? How about in his shoe?
No, it wasn’t anywhere.
The slowly increasing numbers representing his total charge was the solemn funeral march accompanying Joey’s death. What would the gorilla-like cab driver do to him once he found out he had no money? Would he beat him up and leave him the same bruised color as a ripe eggplant, or simply stuff him for the taxi company to use as a warning to others? He wasn’t meant to die young; he was set to become the next big thing on Wall Street. Joey suppressed a whimper.
“Oh no!” Joey thought despairingly. 52nd and Broadway was right before him. What was he going to do? If Joey could’ve seen above his head, he was sure there would have been a blindingly bright light bulb. Check the cab! Surely, a spare twenty could have fallen out of some rushed customer’s hand!
“Yer total’s 36 dollars and 34 cents,” demanded the driver. Joey tore what was left of the cab into pieces. Soaked bits of cushioning were tugged out of the seat, and floor carpeting made a squealing sound as it peeled off the floor. Fingers rummaged though cigarette butts and crumbs between the seats, and, finally, his finger brushed something.
It could be anything, but it might be something.
VICTORY!!! Joey unearthed the most beautiful thing his eyes had ever seen, a fifty-dollar bill. The bill left the trembling man’s hands and fell into another’s.
“Here’s a fifty,” Joey proclaimed, barely containing his joy, “Keep the change”.

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This article has 2 comments.

on Nov. 7 2010 at 2:52 pm
This is an awesome story, i love you descrptive language!

on Nov. 1 2010 at 4:50 pm
AaronLawrence SILVER, St. Louis, Missouri
9 articles 5 photos 106 comments

Favorite Quote:
I may be an idiot, but i'm not stupid

Until you change me enough that i'm convinced I need to change, I won't change

This was extremly good, you perfectly captured the essence of a cab ride, one thing however, in a lot of cities (including my own) cabs cost up to thirty dollars, but unless your going the whole length of the city they're considerably cheaper in New York and other big cities. 


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