This afternoon I ventured into town to overcome my “sick-at-home” fatigue, had some lunch, but was still feeling kind of woozy on my way back home. It’s a bit of a climb up to Rassia, and the end of the neighborhood at that, which is why I didn’t feel like attempting the climb half-sick. So I did what I don’t normally do here: I hailed a passing cab.

…and immediately was whisked into the 19th century. The car may have been 40 years old, but it felt more like 140, the way it huffed and puffed, the way its parts trembled – as if with suppressed steam energy. There was in fact a small amount of steam, coming from somewhere. I was also surprised that he wasn’t wearing 19th-century goggles and leather gloves to operate it.

Needless to say, I was pleased with the experience. I should, however, have taken the time to request the name of his sturdy vessel.

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