photo by Wolf Schram – here’s the full size version
‘It’s quite a collection you have there.’ Dr Hobson leafed through the last pages of the scrapbook, knowing they would be the same as the first – photos ripped from magazines, from books, downloaded from the internet, the images striped light and dark where the printer must have run low on ink.
The walls were pasted with the same pictures – endless chrome hub caps, flat bonnets and voluptuously curved bumpers, a clamour of yellow. ‘Sammy,’ she said, then, ‘Sammy,’ dragging his stare away from the few spots in the room naked of picures. ‘Sammy, why do you collect taxi cabs? Do you think you can tell me?’ At the word ‘taxi’ she had his full attention for the first time since the guard had unlocked the cell door.
He levelled that gaze at her – blank, icy – the one spread across every tabloid front page around the globe. ‘Because at some point in life we all have to leave, Dr Hobson,’ he said.
Written for Sonya at Only 100 Word’s Three Line Tales – and yes, I know I’ve technically disqualified myself by using three paragraphs instead of lines, but I’ll tag along just for fun. See here to join in and to read the other, wonderful stories.