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Cloudy thoughts of violence crossed his mind. He entertained them out of an anger that grew in tandem with the kilometers notched up by the taxi moving easily through the lax evening traffic.
This is kidnapping! he thought.
The driver kept talking, but the sound became increasingly muffled in his mind, a monotonous drone that only fueled his fury.
No one would take you to KL Sentral at this hour, the driver had muttered, intent on getting his illegal fare no matter what.
He thought of opening the door to force the driver to stop. He thought of punching the driver in the neck. He thought of continuously kicking the back of the driver's seat.
But he did none of it, even when the taxi finally came to a stop on the upper level of KL Sentral.
He sat there for a while, unable to move, thinking, deciding, wondering, feeling desperate in being outwitted by the driver. One last charge, a coup de grace, a fitting coda, the killing blow - he was looking for that.
In the end, he took out his wallet, paid the driver the amount for which he had asked, and opened the door. But before getting out, he said to the driver, "Despite all that you did to me, despite all that, I never did anything to you. I even paid you. And I won't be reporting you either. But ... I want you to remember all of this. I want you to remember this evening and all that just happened."
And then he got out while the driver apologised continuously. He thought he heard a tinge of remorse in the driver's voice.
But really, it was wishful thinking.
This is kidnapping! he thought.
The driver kept talking, but the sound became increasingly muffled in his mind, a monotonous drone that only fueled his fury.
No one would take you to KL Sentral at this hour, the driver had muttered, intent on getting his illegal fare no matter what.
He thought of opening the door to force the driver to stop. He thought of punching the driver in the neck. He thought of continuously kicking the back of the driver's seat.
But he did none of it, even when the taxi finally came to a stop on the upper level of KL Sentral.
He sat there for a while, unable to move, thinking, deciding, wondering, feeling desperate in being outwitted by the driver. One last charge, a coup de grace, a fitting coda, the killing blow - he was looking for that.
In the end, he took out his wallet, paid the driver the amount for which he had asked, and opened the door. But before getting out, he said to the driver, "Despite all that you did to me, despite all that, I never did anything to you. I even paid you. And I won't be reporting you either. But ... I want you to remember all of this. I want you to remember this evening and all that just happened."
And then he got out while the driver apologised continuously. He thought he heard a tinge of remorse in the driver's voice.
But really, it was wishful thinking.
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