Guardian Angel (6 – Reflection)
He reached for his phone in the back of the cab, and caught sight of his reflection. Not a bus-driver after all; he’d been a business-man, black coat, wide hat and pin-striped suit. He’d ridden yellow cabs to work, yelled into phones on tangled wires, bought flowers for his wife.
Emily—he remembered now; red lipstick and the ribbon in her hair. He remembered smiles, laughter, love; and her funeral, dressed in black.
He remembered yellow-haired Sally too, child and woman, the voice on the phone.
“Yes, I’m fine,” he said. “No problem. Coming home,” paid the driver, and forgot.