![]() ![]() The driver had understood everything, what more to do but sing? So he sang softly, in a baritone, some snatch of tune Dan sometimes heard plainly and that at other times was lost in other sounds. ![]() Dan counted the bounces of the driver's hat, ballooning against the roof of the car. The house vanished, obscured first by interlaced limbs of cedar, later magnolia, a deep green veil. Dan answered and the driver shifted the taxi into gear. "And where do you go?" the driver asked, settling behind the steering wheel. He dipped his head politely, high hat and dreadlocks shivering. The driver, in dreadlocks and yarn hat, stepped out of the car and loaded Dan's bags into the trunk. But instead he headed to the street where a taxi was waiting. ![]() Now the journey was beginning, and he needed to find a hiding place. He had locked the blue door the house beyond lay empty and silent. At the end of the driveway, Dan's luggage sat amid foliage that was still green in December. ![]()
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