Cabbie 2000 ^new^ Link

The rain in this city doesn’t wash anything clean; it just makes the neon bleed until the streets look like a bruised oil painting. I’ve been driving this tin can for twelve hours straight, and the vinyl seat has officially molded to the shape of my bad back.

“You ever think about time, Jack? Like… why now? Why 1999?” Jack: “Lady, I think about rent. And why my fare is talking like a computer.” Zoe: “Because I am one. Sort of. Don’t crash.” cabbie 2000

Airport. No—wait. The Central Data Spine. Floor 99. The rain in this city doesn’t wash anything