Heaven's Taxi

I was at a party with my friends, getting drunk, and Mason, the one who was supposed to drive us back, forgot about it and got drunk with the rest of us. 
Oh well.
"Hey... wasn't I supposed to drive today...?" Mason asks in his drunk slur.
"No, you're too intoxicated. But don't worry, I called a cab." I reply.
"No way," another friend of mine, Jessica, says.
And as if on cue, a taxi pulled up.
"See, I told you I called a cab."
"Yeah, that's a taxi, all right."
"What taxi? I don't see no taxi!"
"Mason, your night vision's just bad. There's a taxi."
I climbed in and my friends waved me off.
"Hey, nice driving skills. I can't even feel any of the bumps in the road. Teach me sometime?" I say to the driver.
He grunts in reply.
"Want a smoke? We're all friends, after all." (Please remember that I was very intoxicated)
"I don't smoke."
"C'mon, don't be shy."
"I don't smoke."
"Okay, your loss."
I lit a cigarette and took a long pull at it.
"So, what's your name?"
"Matthew Oslow."
We sat in silence for the rest of the ride.
When I arrived at my house, I reached for my wallet and he says, "This ride is free of charge."
He reached out his hand, and I shook it.
His hand felt as cold as ice.
When I stumbled in through the front door of my house, I was met with my wife, arms crossed and glaring at me.
"You were out drinking, weren't you? Even if you say no, I know that you did. I saw you stumbling down the road and onto our porch. Tell me, what were you thinking, walking home when you were drunk?"
"I took a cab..."
"Well, I didn't see no cab. All I saw was this mud-covered pig's head walking down the road and into my nice, clean house!"
"Sorry, sorry..."
The next day, I called the taxi company, saying that I wanted to leave a good review about Matthew Oslow. 
"How do you know Matthew? He died 3 years ago in a car crash. Good person, he was. Prolly up in heaven now."
"Matthew's dead?"
"Yeah, you sure it wasn't another Matthew?"
I thanked him for his time, and hung up.
I had ridden a taxi from Heaven!
One day, I returned home from work and found that my wife wasn't home.
Worried, I called her. 
No response.
I called her again.
No response.
It was then I heard the front door open.
"Connor, I'm back! I went grocery shopping."
I went to take the grocery bags from her arms.
"No, no, there's more."
And then I heard a familiar voice behind her.
"I'm helping her."
Matthew.
I thanked him for his troubles, for driving my wife and for helping her carry her groceries.
"It's fine, it's fine, no need to thank me. We're all friends, right?"
After he left, I asked my wife, "Maggie, are you okay?"
"Yes, of course, why wouldn't I be?" she leaned in for a hug.
I hugged her.
Her skin was so cold.
Category:Vehicles