Morning slid in soft and quiet
like a towel warm from a dryer
the kind that makes you forgive last night without asking why
I turned the key and the cab yawned awake
a little rattle that said we are still here
good enough

First ping was a corner bodega on a street with too many vowels
a kid in a soccer jersey ran out with a bag of ice and a jar of pickles
he jumped in and said emergency practice
coach says electrolytes and chaos
field by the river please
He talked the way birds fly
short bursts
fast turns
he said his team is called the Meteors because they show up hot and disappear
he asked if I ever played
I said guitar once
not a sport unless you count carrying amps up stairs
He nodded like that was heavy work
At the field he paid in crumpled singles and a sticker of a meteor that looked like a spicy meatball
For your dash he said
so people know you can go fast if needed

Next fare waved me down with both hands
woman in a neon vest
city survey crew
she had a tripod and a face that knew maps like names
she asked for the courthouse steps
we loaded the gear like it was a small robot learning to trust us
She told me she measures streets that think they are straight and proves they are not
says the earth is a shrug
I asked if that bothered her
She said not at all
imperfection keeps her in a job and people out of trouble
At the steps she left me a pencil sharpener shaped like a tiny cone
For when the line gets dull she said

A quiet period arrived like a cat
no sound
just there
I cruised past a row of closed thrift stores
mannequins stared like they knew secrets about pants
The radio tried a station that only played songs that start with a whistle
I let it
whistling is cheap mercy

A call from a strip mall bakery
inside a guy with flour on his hat held a shoebox gently
He said delivery please
not shoes
pastries
his niece had a school play and he promised the stage crew sugar
He told me he once acted in a play as a tree and forgot to sway
says the director yelled be the breeze
we both laughed
At the school he handed me one pastry and said sway when you eat this
it helps the glaze settle
He jogged off holding the box like a baby dream

Later a man in a button down that fought his belly waved hard
he carried a fish in a plastic bag
water sloshed
the fish blinked like it had read the script and wanted edits
Pet shop he said
it has eaten three roommates already
we need a mediator
The bag sat on his lap
he kept telling the fish to consider salad
At the shop the clerk rolled her eyes and said that species enjoys drama
She gave the man a divider for the tank and a pamphlet called peaceful solutions
He left calm
the fish flicked its tail like a small insult

A sunburned tourist couple asked for the sign with the best city view
their map had coffee stains and hope
We drove to a hill most people forget
The view was not the famous one
but the sky sat closer and the wind had good manners
They took photos of each other pretending not to pose
They asked if I take pictures
I said only with my eyes
They said that sounded poetic
I said it was cheaper than film

I stopped for gas and found a wallet by the pump
no cash
just a library card and a picture of a baby eating sand
I turned it in at the register
the clerk said nobody ever comes back for wallets unless there is a coupon inside
We both looked at the picture again and decided sand is its own coupon

The meter blinked and I went back out
A guy in a faded delivery uniform flagged me with a plastic flamingo under his arm
he said party store down the boulevard
flamingo three needs friends
On the way he told me he used to install aquarium castles for rich people
says fish judge you but not out loud
At the store he offered me a helium balloon shaped like a cloud
I tied it to the headrest and drove
the cab felt lighter even if the physics stayed stubborn

A call came from a community college
a girl with blue headphones and a tired smile
she carried a big book on American history and a smaller one on how to sleep eight hours
she said the second book does not work
Library please
She asked if I believe people change
I said slowly and then all at once
She said that sounds like weather
I said exactly
At the steps she paid exact and left a sticky note on the seat that said drink water
I stuck it to the dash next to the meteor sticker and the tiny cone

Traffic stretched like gum
I took a side street that smelled like cut grass and old bikes
A man in a suit jogged beside the cab and kept pace for a whole block
he was not running from anything
just proving he could
At the corner he saluted the car like it had challenged him and lost
I let him win

A new ping
pawn shop with neon that buzzed like a memory
An older woman climbed in carrying a shoebox wrapped in twine
she asked for the bus station
Her hands shook but her voice did not
She said inside the box were letters from a man who loved her once and then loved whiskey more
she was taking them to her sister who liked to reread trouble
I asked if that helps
She said it helps her sister and that is the kind of math she understands
At the station she pressed a peppermint into my palm with a look that said do not argue with candy

A comedy of umbrellas came next
a sudden sprinkle and everyone became a weather expert
I picked up a street vendor who sold phone chargers and optimism
he said rain is good for business and bad for shoes
he asked to trade a charger for a ride
I said sure
my phone eats battery like a bored teenager
He told me a story about selling umbrellas during a drought and I believed every word because his grin never took a day off

By late afternoon the sky cleared its throat and went blue again
I parked for five minutes under a billboard for a new show about people who live in kitchens and cry professionally
I ate an orange from a corner stand that tasted like the sun remembered my name
A skateboard rolled by without a rider
it kept a straight line like it knew a place to be

Last runs came easy
a florist who wanted silence and got it
a grandpa with a bag of birdseed who knew every pigeon by nickname
a music teacher with a violin that never stopped humming even when it slept

Then the small odd thing
a boy flagged me at a crosswalk with a jar full of screws and buttons
he asked for the lost and found office at the transit hub
says he collects what the city drops and returns it on Fridays
I asked if anyone claims a jar of screws
He said sometimes
a person will hold a button and remember the jacket where they stopped being someone else
He said found things do that
they tell you you used to be whole and can be again
At the hub the clerk greeted him by name and took the jar like a sacred bowl
They stamped a card that said thank you citizen
He saluted me with serious eyes and waved goodbye

Dusk leaned in
lights clicked on
the balloon cloud bobbed near my ear like it had advice
The meter showed a number that would keep the tank honest and the fridge cooperative
I lined up the stickers and notes on the dash
meteor
drink water
tiny cone sharpener
coin with a hole still on my keychain
a life raft of small proofs

I drove one last loop past the river
the water took the day and sorted it quiet
I thought of everything that had passed through the cab
pickles and pastries and blue headphones and a flamingo and letters tied with twine
lost things found
found things offered back

Night arrived without a speech
I pulled to the curb and let the engine rest
The city kept moving
it always does
I stayed still for a breath
long enough to feel whole enough to keep going