I wrote this story this evening in a class where we all write from a prompt for 20 minutes, then read our stories. This is a first draft but I think it’s a good start to a decent story.

Here is the prompt: There is an urban legend floating around about a taxi that doesn’t take you where you want to go, but rather where you need to go. Write about a character that gets into this taxi. Where do they go and why? Alternatively – who or what is the driver?

Sarah James hailed a taxi after finding herself in an unexpected rainstorm in New York City. Her clothes and hair were sopping wet when she climbed into the back seat of the yellow and black, and after giving the driver the address of her boyfriend’s apartment, she heaved a deep sigh. What a day. Who knew that after her big job interview, she’d be completely drenched? She and Brandon were supposed to go out to celebrate what they both hoped would be a turn in the chapter of her unemployment status. Not working as a chef during the pandemic had been a blow to her pocketbook and her psyche since very few people wanted to entertain and those who did were not people that she felt safe being around even with a mask.

Sarah closed her eyes and thought back to the interview. It was the chance of a lifetime working in a Michelin-starred restaurant right downtown. She had been shocked when they called and offered her an interview. While her credentials before Covid had been impressive, three years out of work had not done anything to make her look particularly special. Still, the owner had seemed friendly enough and impressed. He knew the restaurants she’d trained in while studying in Paris and was actually a personal friend of her former boss. He smiled and nodded a lot during their time together and gave her a hearty handshake accompanied by the words, “You’ll be hearing from us soon.”

The rain was still coming down when Sarah looked out the window. She frowned. Though she couldn’t tell where they were, she was certain it was not anywhere near the address of her boyfriend’s place. Instead of buildings, she saw trees, and there were no city lights but rather a dim darkness. “Hey, sir!” she called out. “I said 1127 West 57th Street. Where in the hell are we?”

The driver glanced back in her direction and she saw in the dim light of the dashboard that he had eyes the color of honey. “No worries, Miss. I know exactly where we’re going. Think of this as a shortcut.”

Sarah felt fear surge up her spine. This was no shortcut. This was wrong, wrong, wrong.

She reached down and tried the door handle but it didn’t work. She pushed the button for the window and nothing happened. She leaned over and tried the door and window on the other side and the same thing happened: nothing.

“Hey,” she called. “Could you please just pull over? I want to get out.”

The driver lifted his hand and gave her a thumbs up. “No problem, Miss. We’re almost there.”

As Sarah tried to calm her nerves, she felt the car slow to a stop. She reached for the door handle and the door easily opened. She stepped outside and looked around. The moon was shining bright and there was a full sky of shimmering stars. She saw a house nearby and recognized it as her grandmother’s, but when she turned to ask the driver what was happening, the car was already gone. “What in the world?” she muttered, even though she felt a warm breeze caress her and saw that her clothes were now completely dry.

Sarah turned to see if there were other houses around but there were none. Her grandmother’s house (or an identical facsimile) had windows glowing with golden light and the front porch light on just as she remembered when her family drove to upstate New York when she was a kid. She walked a bit unsteadily through the front gate, up the porch stairs, and then knocked on the front door. She heard footsteps inside and then the door burst open. Her grandma was standing there looking more tired and thin than Sarah remembered, but her face lit up when she saw Sarah’s face. “Oh, honeybug, how in the world did you know to come?”

Sarah felt all of her apprehension vanish. Whatever was happening didn’t matter. Her grandmother’s open arms were all she saw. She stepped forward and was enveloped. She felt complete bliss and all other emotion drained from her heart and soul.

Her grandma held her close then stepped back and smiled. “Oh, Sarah. How could you have known that Grandpa’s been asking for you? His health has taken a sharp downturn and the doctor doesn’t think it’ll be long. Grandpa’s been muttering your name in his sleep.”

Sarah saw the relief on her grandmother’s face and then understood on some deep level what she was doing there. She squeezed her grandmother’s hand. “I’m so happy I’m here.”

Her grandma smiled. “Oh, honeybug, so am I.”