Taxi Myth

I could smell the cigarette smoke on my clothes, it turned my stomach almost as much as that hundred year old sleaze that had grabbed my ass while I waited for my wine. I raised my hand for the seventh time in three minutes. 

"Taxi!" But, yet again, the black cabs just sped past. 

Growing more miserable by the second, it occurred to me, that I hadn't decided where I wanted to be taken once I'd successfully hailed a cab - if that ever happened. 

"TAXI!" Ignored again. 

Or maybe not, suddenly the car reversed back down the thankfully deserted road, and grinded to a stop halt directly in front of me. Weird, but not enough for me to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

I clambered in to the back of the taxi, having been conditioned by my mother to never sit in the front of  a taxi if you're on your own. Some things just stick, I guess, even when family doesn't. 

"Where to?" The question came with a friendly smile. The driver couldn't have been older than late 30s, tanned and somehow both familiar and completely new. 

"193 New Street. Please." Guess I'm going to Laura's. Good idea? Not even a little. Unhealthy? Definitely. Fun? Hell yes! A night with Laura may not be what I needed, but it was what I wanted. It was my version of putting your hand closer and closer to a flame to see how long you can hold it until you get burned. It was likely going to hurt, but the temptation always was too strong. 

Looking out the window, I watched the world go by...wait! Alfredos? This wasn't the way to Laura's. 

"Hey. You're going the wrong way. This isn't the way to New Street."

"This is the way to we need to go." The driver's voice was still cheerful, no note of threatening. 

Before I had time to panic, the taxi stopped. 

"Here we are." I looked out of the window and see a house that I could have sworn I'd seen before, but couldn't be sure. 

Then I saw him. Simon. My big brother. And in his arms, was a chubby-cheeked baby. 

I hadn't spoken to Simon for a few years. He was dad's son, not mum's. Dad was my link to my older brother. So, when I was disowned for liking tacos more than burritos, we'd lost touch. 

Before I realised what I was doing, I was walking towards the front door. Had I even paid for the taxi?

Could this be my chance of a family that accepted me?