Cab Horror

The other day, after what felt like five days of after-school detention, I hailed a taxi - it was almost six, jeez. I opened the door and stepped inside. Making myself comfortable in the back seat, I told him my home address, without caring who the cabbie was. I sank into the seat, with a kind of uneasiness. What would mum do? Ground me for the next ten years? I checked my watch every fifteen seconds, and watched the traffic shooting by. About halfway down the road, the dumb cabbie slowed suddenly. Damn you, I thought. Before I could say anything, the cabbie turned to me. For a moment, I was frozen with fear. The cabbie was not half like anyone I'd seen before. His hair was the colour of fresh blood. His face, on the contrary, was white as a sheet. His cold eyes stared at me as if he was Count Dracula. *** Taking advantage of my momentary paralysis, he spoke. 'My name is Ronald McDonald.