May 29, 2019
lights on
@omgahyun
fall 2012, 12:34 a.m.
she’s the last ride of the night, the october chill too relentless at this point of the hour to think about the tranquility of autumn weather—the thought, among countless others, stopped passing over the second the sun dipped by six-something of the p.m. the cab slows to the side of the road, headlights cutting through the distant dark. the passenger door opens, then slams. adjusting, shifting, metallic zip-unzip, then the click of a seatbelt, the usual of passenger fanfare. haeil turns the radio dial, the host’s monologue nearly tuned out, then makes eye-contact with her at last. “where to, miss?”