Monday, May 26, 2008

I'm happy to be alive

Martin and I were on the train, heading home after spending the afternoon in the city, when I had this nervous feeling. It was so intense, and came all of a sudden. It actually may have been because of the fact that I had 3 cups of coffee that day, but I was so shaken.

"Marts, can I just call a taxi from your house?"

I was supposed to catch the last bus from the train station 2 or 3 stops away from where Martin lived, but since it was a Sunday, the bus schedule was different.

Outside Caulfield station, there was a line of taxis, and Martin saw me off. He texted me shortly to text him when I got home.

The taxi driver was an old man, and we made small talk. He talked about how his wife would say that she'd spend hours slaving away in the kitchen, just for her dishes to be gobbled up in minutes by their 4 sons.

I paid $18 for the short ride home. That's P750, more or less.
But somehow, I know it was worth it.