
The inside of the taxi is simple—rain sliding across the windows, tires humming against wet asphalt, a blurred world shifting beyond the glass.
I tug at the peeling leather seats and watch as the driver, tall and quiet, switches on the radio and sways to the music. Her close-cut hair swishes around her face as she takes a sharp turn and my head collides with the edge of the window.
“So, this is music?” I say conversationally, rubbing my forehead. She gives me a confused look and reaches for the volume dial. “Sorry, would you prefer something quieter?”
I shake my head. “No, it’s… tell me, why do you sway like that?”
She laughs lightly, visibly uncomfortable. “I know, I know, I’m no dancer.”
“Dancer,” I say slowly, hesitating before pulling out my notebook. “What’s a dancer?”
how dare you do this to me clara
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Claraaaa this is wonderful.
And I want to know more.
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ok pal write a book goshdangit
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ah
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*its an alien*
Most crazily, ~Olive
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lovely
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I’m super intrigued
MUSIC AND DANCING ARE WONDERFUL THINGS LIL ALIEN
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