taxiA Story by zeronineightMen, per se, did not scare her. But-
Men, per se, did not scare her. But when she rides a taxi, front seat out of habit and she smiles at the driver, politely out of habit, converses with them because they have a rough, repetitive job and a little conversation can't hurt her --
that she finds herself, going home hyperventilating. Her brain trying to process what happened, her brain running a million miles about what could have happened, what 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 happen. Because f**k, men did not scare her. But when they barely knew her and they were only about a meter apart controlling the wheel and all they talked about was how good of a lover they'd be, all hypothetical as if she can't see then they take out their phone and ask for her number -- "To get to know me better." As if picking up your ride from the front seat of your car at night was a perfectly reasonable thing to do. "Will anyone be angry if you do?" As if the only reason she has the right to say no was if another man would be angry if she didn't. "Is your boyfriend a foreigner?" As if the stereotype of women her age marrying old men from other countries for money was still a thing and that was somehow a factor in all this. "Is your boyfriend a call center agent too?" Why? Why did you need to know? Why won't you take no for an answer? If she got off at her stop, would he come back for her? If she rode at this stop again, one night after work -- because damn was she naive enough to tell the driver her actual work hours, thinking it was a little kindness to talk to someone who had to work behind the wheel all day. 𝘍𝘶𝘤𝘬-- © 2022 zeronineightAuthor's Note
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Added on January 2, 2022Last Updated on January 2, 2022 AuthorzeronineightPhilippinesAboutjust trying to paint images of all my extremes she/her. 21+ icon from picrew more..Writing
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