An hour ago, I almost got hit by a cab. I was crossing the exchange between Ayala Triangle Park and Citibank, when a cab zoomed ahead from nowhere to in front of me. I didn’t see it coming; another vehicle blocked my line of sight to the left and the traffic light was red.
The difference between a normal day (an assumption at this point) and the cab hitting me (possibilities run the gamut) was a mere second, a single step. And all along, in the entire trip from home to work, I was thinking that yesterday, I was late by a mere three minutes: “If only I could walk faster…”
I wanted to give the cab driver the finger but I was running late.