Tommy Comer

Taxicab Dreams

Out of breath and out of time, Billy froze under a bridge. It was warm for February. If he closed his eyes, it felt like a summer breeze was hitting him. Or was it panic? He peered out one side of the bridge, with a silenced thirty-eight in his right hand. I know he’s out there, he thought. Billy was more wired than tired, but at some point, rest was a must.