five minute story

The Taxi

Closing time! And the throng begins to come alive and pour out into the cold winter night. I’m one of the first out the door, my cowboy boots slipping over the hard packed snow. Its cold and I pull my hood up over my head and head over to the first of a gathering line of taxis. I reach for the door when I am suddenly grabbed from behind and spun around.

A young man stands before me. Clean cut and dressed good. His friends move up in a half-moon shape. Ten or twelve feet back from them, an outer shell is growing with the emerging throng. They pour out like cattle and spread around the flimsy obstacle and block in those behind them. Curiosity turns to anticipation and the crowd gets thick with the jostling for a better view.

This young mans brief coup has turned into something else. He can’t walk away now and I see in his eyes that he knows it. I see fear and inexperience. He doesn’t know what to do. He looks to his friends where he pulls some strength and the game begins.

The words drift out, “That’s my taxi”. It was hesitant, but in the cold air the words traveled quickly and began to electrify the throng. I felt sick. Sick to death of the violence that had become so much a part of my life. I didn’t want this anymore. There was no escape. If I could walk away I would proclaim myself a weak deer and become pickings for the other hungry wolves. They were already howling for the kill.

I resigned myself to my fate and I spoke the words “come and take it”. He stepped forward and I smashed him in the face knocking him down. He began to bleed and I could imagine some macabre ice painting of blood, urine and beer trampled into the snow. The foot paintings of violence would last until spring where upon they meandered down the sewer accompanied with the smell of melting dog shit.

I couldn’t stop at one, I had stepped into the circle and there was no stepping out. It became a blur of smashing limbs. I can’t remember it. The pummeling drone was broken when someone from behind grabbed my hood and pulled me to the ground.

The throng had their downed animal and they moved in with the lust of retribution. I didn’t care anymore, I didn’t want anymore and I lay there quietly and let them kick my still body. It didn’t hurt anymore and I lay there looking up at the stars. A calm and a peace fell over me. I hadn’t felt that way in years. I was like a child being held in its mothers arms, innocent and oblivious to the evil. I felt purity.

The screams and yells from the throng died away and I could hear only the wind and see the stars and life felt good again. I had found my way out of the circle and found the trail to discover myself.

I found myself being lifted and I came back to the moment. It was a Mounty seeing if I was still alive. Paddywagons had pulled up and the throng had begun to panic and run. I was ok and I stood on my feet. The Mounty asked if I wanted to press charges. I said no.
I got into my waiting taxi and went far away.