Things are not always what they seem..................

The black cab glides through the deserted city streets.

Reflections from the traffic lights intermittently cover the

rain soaked streets with a multitude of colours.

In the backseat of the cab, a silent, serious looking young man.

Every now and then the cab driver casts a furtive glance

in the rear-view mirror to check on his passenger.

He decides to try and strike up a conversation.

''Aren't you a bit young to be travelling all alone at 

this time of the night?''.

No answer.

''If I was out and about at this time of the night at your age, 

my folks would've had my hide'' the cab driver tries again.

Still no answer.

The cab driver decides to put on the radio.

''Do you like music? I like the swing bands, they really get

me going, you know, The Duke, Goodman, Basie and those cats.''

''Oh, good, the lights turned red, now I can find a good station.''

The cab stops at the lights and the cab driver fiddles with

the knobs on the radio until Benny Goodman's ''Sing, Sing, Sing''

fills the silence.

Still nothing from the passenger in the backseat.

''I tell ya, Goodman really knows how to play that clarinet, don't you think?''

The cab driver throws another glance in the rear-view mirror.

''Sheesh, that's one strange youngster, so damned serious,''

 he mutters under his breath.

Before he had left home for his night-shift, his wife had told him

to not talk too much to his passengers, but, he likes

talking to people, it makes the time pass quicker.

He throws a glance at the meter; 20 dollars.

''You sure you've got the money to pay for this ride? he asks 

his young passenger.

His eyes meets his passenger's eyes in the rear-view mirror.

''Yikes, okay, okay, I get it, you've got the money.''

''Hey, no offense, just making sure, is all."

Lorna is right, I should just zip it, he thinks to himself.

We are almost there now anyway.

Fillmore 2547, East Upper side. Two blocks away.

A few minutes later he pulls up at the Fillmore.

He turns off the meter, turns to face his passenger and then says:

 ''That will be $27.50.''

The passenger hands him a fifty dollar bill, waves his hand as

to indicate that he doesn't want the change, then exits the cab.

As the cab driver slips the bill into his wallet, he throws a quick glance

through the side window of the cab and sees the young

man holding something shiny in his right hand.

Only after the doors to the Fillmore Hotel has closed behind 

the young man, does he realize what the shiny thing is.

    A gun.

about the image: graphite on cardboard with a filter added