and there was peace
i climb into a cab and a familiar, soothing sound reached my ears. john coltrane. and all of a sudden, at 3am, there was nowhere else i'd rather be. i've often thought i'd like to die listening to coltrane. and i briefly imagined myself dying in a mangled crash moments later, just so my wish could be granted.
shaking my attention from the images of my own beautiful death was a sound usually unfamiliar in cab drivers, an american accent. we chatted about gas prices. i apologized to him for making him take me to the subway (a $5 ride) instead of up to my house way uptown (a $27 ride) where he would have gotten a bigger tip. he explained that, because he probably wouldn't have gotten a fare back downtown and would have to spend more money on gas, that it was actually cheaper for him to only take me the few blocks i asked to be driven and get the lesser tip. as i opened the door the soft sound of saxophone gave way to the bustling noises on west 4th, still in my coltrane euphoria, i gave him a $6 tip before i hopped out. just because.
and sometimes i wake up and things feel grim, gray and gross. but i take myself back to coltrane and realize things will be just fine. great, in fact.