Mrs.O's writing room.

I meet different people on my commutes – some funny, some intense, some honest and some plain – I like those the best. The conversation begins with a simple question and escalates to a deep human connection, an appreciation for the different journeys we walk. I watched the Uber driver circle the cul de sac and then leave. Did that just happen? He just turned around and left? I stood out in the cold, checked the app, it was the right number plate. I tucked my hands into the jacket and hoped the car would circle back. It did. He stopped, helped put my luggage in the trunk/boot and apologized. He said he got a little confused with the directions. Well, nothing to add. He was on the older side probably in his mid-fifties. He looked like he’d been in an accident that altered his face a little. It didn’t help that his car was not all that but hey! I trusted it would get us to the destination. Music whispered through his car speakers – country rock-ish – not really my taste. It s