A low and gentle breeze stirred the dry leaves and styrofoam cups covering the sidewalk. Ryan clenched his cold fists in the pockets of his coat and lowered his head presaging the icy gust of air that followed.
“C’mon, C'mon,” he muttered.
He saw a black Prius break away from the current of commuters and slowly approached the curb.
He acknowledged the driver with a wave and the car came to a stop. Ryan slid in the back seat and greeted the driver.
“Hey, how are ya?” He asked.
“Good,” she replied. “And you?”
“Fine fine,” Ryan said.
The driver looked at the GPS receiver mounted on the windshield.
“So let’s see we’re going to 4453 south whatever,” her voice trailed as she finished reading …