Driver for Two

The city streets blurred together as I drove, my mind numb from the endless miles and the weight of my grief. I'd started driving for Lyft a few months ago, hoping to escape the emptiness that filled my home. But it only seemed to follow me, a constant passenger in the backseat. I picked up fares, exchanged pleasantries, and dropped them off, all on autopilot. The conversations were a welcome distraction, but when the cars were empty, the silence was oppressive. Tonight was no different. I'd just dropped off a late-night passenger when I received a new request. I accepted, heading to the pickup location. As I arrived, I noticed a young woman waiting by the curb, her eyes fixed on her phone. As I pulled up to the curb, the young woman looked up, her eyes locking onto mine for a brief moment before she slid into the backseat. She gave me a soft smile and told me her destination. We chatted lightly about the traffic and the weather, but as we drove, I noticed she seeme...

I picked up the passenger on the outskirts of the reservation, the dusty road stretching out before us like a snake slithering through the desert. The passenger, a quiet woman with a worn leather jacket, slid into the backseat without a word, her eyes fixed on the passing landscape. As we drove, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the barren terrain. The GPS led me down increasingly narrow roads, the darkness deepening with each passing mile. The woman's silence was unnerving, but I didn't press her for conversation. Suddenly, she spoke up, her voice low and husky. "We're almost there. Take the next left up ahead." The road wound deeper into the reservation, the only sound the crunch of gravel beneath the tires. That's when I noticed it – a faint light hovering in the distance, seeming to follow us. I rubbed my eyes, wondering if fatigue was playing tricks on me, but when I looked again, the light was still there, pulsing ...

As I navigated through the morning traffic, my passenger, a woman in her mid-30s with a bright smile, settled into the backseat. "Good morning," she said, her voice chipper despite the early hour. "I'm headed to work in the Financial District." "Morning," I replied, glancing in the rearview mirror. "I'm your Lyft driver today. How's your day shaping up so far?" She launched into a story about her job in advertising, discussing the latest campaign she was working on and the challenges of meeting tight deadlines. I listened attentively, nodding along as I drove. When she paused, I shared, "I'm a graphic designer, actually. I love working on visual projects and seeing how design can impact people's perceptions." Her eyes lit up. "That's really cool! I've always admired people with creative skills. In my free time, I enjoy exploring astrology and learning more about the zodiac signs." We cha...

As you are aware, I refrain from using real names. However, I made an exception in this instance. I had a fare, and the individual's name displayed as America. I have encountered a wide range of names, but never America. She emerged, wearing a polo shirt with the Marriott logo. I assumed you are heading to work. She confirmed, stating she is employed at the Marriott. She appeared remarkably young. I inquired about her age, and she replied that she is 18 and had graduated just three weeks prior. I speculated that her father must have chosen her name. She acknowledged this, mentioning that she initially disliked her name but now finds it quite appealing. Now that you are an adult, what are your plans for the future? She expressed her desire to become a teacher, working full-time until she saves enough money to attend a junior college. She noted that junior colleges now offer four-year programs. Her goal is to teach special education, inspired by her sister, who has a lear...