The Taxi Driver's Last Passenger
George drove taxis in Manchester for twenty-two years.
At 3:05 a.m., he picked up a woman wearing a red coat.
She gave him an address.
“Are you alright?” George asked.
She nodded.
But she never spoke again.
When they arrived, George turned around.
The back seat was empty.
He assumed she'd left while he was distracted.
Then he noticed something on the seat.
A photograph.
It showed the same woman.
Standing outside the exact house.
The date was 1964.
George took the photograph to the address.
An elderly man opened the door.
George showed him the picture.
The man's face went pale.
“That was my sister.”
“Was?”
“She died in this house.”
George looked toward the road.
His taxi's rear door was open.
Inside was the woman in the red coat.
She smiled.
Then George heard her whisper:
“You forgot to take me home.”
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