Short story from my future book: "Beyond the absurd".

Coming soon...


Lord Byron: "Truth is stranger than fiction".


I was already at the airport terminal. I had gone the road all by myself, as always. I returned from the desert, where I had had some work to do and the return flight was long and exhausting. I went out in front of the terminal and I saw it. I don't know how I decided with one look only that this was my taxi. It was a shade different than the others and I felt at once that this taxi was very special. Its dark green colour reminded me of...
„Drive me home, but before that I want to stop by another place where you will wait for me“, I told the driver as I opened the door. He was a well-dressed dignified man at an average age. He measured me with his strange look and beckoned me to get onto the passenger seat. We were already traveling on the road. The weather was a little bit cloudy and there was not much traffic. The road seemed familiar to me. At least at the beginning.
I looked at the panel in front of me.
„Excuse me, isn't your fare too expensive?“, I asked the driver.
„It is, but you know that this taxi is extremely special. It can take you absolutely everywhere and I know all the roads all around the world and even beyond it“, the driver answered politely.
„How come everywhere?“, I asked.
„It's as I say it!“
„You must be very rich with these fares.“
The driver smiled.
„It's a state taxi, sir. Everything goes into the state budget.“
I mused.
„OK, so you say everywhere. What if I want you to drive me to the end of the world? Or beyond the apocalypse? Or even beyond it?“
„No problem. But I doubt that you have so much money“, he said while he made a left turn. The road seemed more and more familiar to me.
„Has anyone asked you to drive them to such places?“
„Only once. It was a very rich and bored old man. The trip was very long, but he paid more than enough.“
„Where is he now?“
„I don't have any idea. I left him where he wanted. In the Judgment day! I haven't seen him any more after that. I myself could hardly return from there. I think he also wanted to go back, but still there isn't a man rich enough on this world who can pay me the fare to the Judgment Day and back“, the driver said, as if to himself and made a barely noticeable smile.
„You have a very interesting job. You must see a lot of things that the other people cannot see. And what is there? In the Judgment day?“, I asked and looked carefully at him.
He sighed strangely.
„Well, to some extent, it is as it is described in the Bible, and still it is a little bit different. Darkness, fires, total destruction. The living and the dead have met among the ruins somewhere at the end of time. And they celebrate the apocalypse. An eternal orgy is taking place among the destruction. It is more frightening than the hell. And it is too tense. It is not for me. I am a calm person. I prefer silence.
The road from the airport ended in the distance before us.
„I forgot to ask you. Where do you want me to stop before driving you home?“
„There is a turn off the road slightly forward. I think that was the way.“
„I know it very well, but there the fare is triple.“
I thrust my hand into my pocket and count my money. I don't have enough money.
„Isn't it too much to make it a triple fare?“, I reproach him.
He looks at me.
„You know very well that this turn leads to the world of the dead. It is not too much if you take into consideration all the nerves and this leap between the two worlds.“
„Do you often drive people there?“
„It happens, but as you see, it is too expensive. And all this money goes to the state. This is the state policy nowadays. The state budget makes large amounts of money out of taxis driving people to the world of the dead. If you ask me, it is conceived very well, because sooner or later everyone wants to go there to see some old acquaintance or a relative. Whom do you want to see?“
„Some old acquaintances who will have a small feast today in a block. It is very close, but still we will have to turn right and cross the border to get there, and I don't have enough money.“
He looks at me.
„I take your hint, but this can't affect me. Even if I wanted to help you, I couldn't have done it. The taxi is programmed so that if it turns to the world of the dead, the machine starts charging a triple fare. It is another clever thing, invented by the state.“
I grow sad. My face sinks into desperation.
„But I haven't seen these acquaintances since they died. And the only thing I know is that they will meet just today for a while in the block near the turn. I will hardly find them ever again after that.“
„I am sorry, sir, but I can't help you.“
„Do you think that if I earn money and call you again some day to drive me to the world of the dead, I will find them again?“, I asked him.
„Honestly, I don't know. The dead are a little bit unreliable. Once they meet, then they scatter and never meet again. But who knows! Why do you want so much to go there? May be it is some unfullfilled love story which death had made impossible?“He looked at me with curiosity.
„Something like that.“
„OK, I don't have enough money for you to drive me to the world of the dead, but what if I want you to drive me to some memory, for example?“
„There is no way. The fare to the memories is more expensive than that to the world of the dead,“ he said to me.
„OK, then just drive me home“, I said and leaned back on the seat.
The boulevard ends. It is already dark outside. The taxi takes some unknown roads. I am sure that I have never passed them.“
„Sir, where do you drive me? This is not the road to my home“, I told him, as I looked at the passing cars outside.
„This is the address you told me. District... block...entrance... The data is entered in the car computer. It is impossible for a mistake to be made. Besides, I drove you to the airport some weeks ago, don't you remember? Surely that's the way. In fact, we are almost there. It remains a little bit more.“
„I remember that you drove me, but we passed entirely different roads. I am convinced of that.“
„Don't be so sure, sir. Sometimes the way home looks the way we want it to be. That is the right road. Trust me. If you don't trust me, trust the computer, which is programmed by the state. I am sure that you will soon remember.“
„May be you are right.“, I lean back on the seat. I look at the cars against us and the street lamps and I grow sleepy.
I have a strange dream. I am among some Roman ruins in a dark night. Small fires burn around me. In the distance before me some ancient town can be seen in the moonlight. I am overtaken by a strong wind and a feeling of ancient times. Everything is very mystic. There is someone behind me. I turn around. It is the ghostly shadow of an old dead acquaintance of mine. I am amazed what he is doing here and why he specifically is here. The shadow approaches, raises a hand, and says before my hypnotized look:
„Memento mori“, it says and slowly points with a finger one of the small fires.