Do You Know Me?


“Do you know who I am?”

The cab driver nods.

“I’m not dangerous.”

He looks for reassurance in my face, but my determination and anger won’t give him any.

I took my life in my hands getting him to stop.

The first cab I hailed simply sailed around me and into oncoming traffic, causing a lot of hard braking and a certain amount of swearing.

This bloke stopped, and as I piled into his cab, I yelled, “Follow that car.”

He didn’t reply, and he didn’t seem fazed by my command.

Maybe cab drivers get that all the time.

He was young and tall with very dark hair and amazing black eyes. He kept glancing at me in the rearview mirror and, considering my loud request; you may not think that was so strange, but I knew he’d recognised me.

My photo had been on the front page of the Herald-Sun for three days, just above the picture of a disgraced footballer, a coach caught up in a doping scandal and an ‘actress’, I had never heard of, who was outraged that her naked photos had appeared on the web, again.

I have found it relatively easy to keep my naked photos off the web; I don’t take any. I wouldn’t want to ‘frighten the horses’, as my mum used to say.

The twenty-year-old Mercedes with a damaged tail light had a short head start on us, but my dark-eyed cab driver was up to the task. The upside of tailing someone in a taxi is that no one takes any notice of the poor driving that is required to follow someone successfully; all cabs are driven like that.

The old Merc dived into a parking space opposite a vacant bloke of land. The driver got out as we sailed by.

I gave the taxi driver an enormous tip, and he smiled at me. Hopefully, he will take an hour or two before he reports having seen me. If this were a movie, he wouldn’t turn me in at all, but this isn’t a movie, and I’m going to be lucky if I stay one step ahead of the police.

The silver Merc’s driver prized open the security fence that was doing a poor job of protecting the vacant block and disappeared.

I’m only a chartered accountant, but it is amazing what skills you can summon up when your life has been torn apart. The Merc driver did not see me follow him, nor did he notice me see him enter the old house that was hidden behind a massive growth of blackberries. The house must have been empty for a very long time.

I put my hand in my coat pocket and felt the handle of the wood chisel.

One of us was going to come out of that house and live happily ever after.

From the first time since this all started, I considered scribbling my last will and testament on the back of the McDonald’s receipt that I found in the other pocket of my coat, but there wasn’t enough time, and I didn’t have a writing implement.

An accountant without a pen but in possession of a sharp wood chisel. It had been a very strange couple of days, but now it was about to get terminal.

I took a deep breath, and with the hand that wasn’t holding the chisel, I pushed open what had, at one time, been the front door.


illustration credit:




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4 thoughts on “Do You Know Me?

  1. You knew he was tall because his seat was as far back as possible allowing him room to spread those long legs….? a vacant bloke? Or perhaps, a block? lol

    I could see the story in my minds eye, which tells me that you still can put together a good short yarn. But… yes, the but… for me, this piece reads a bit flat. Keep writing!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks for the comments Gina.
      I just received my 103rd rejection letter, and in it there was a suggestion that I don’t include enough detail and that my story was not ‘interesting’ enough.
      Naturally, I disagreed [The Blue Dress], but it got me thinking……..
      Generally, I write what comes to me, and sometimes that can be a ‘shoot ’em up’ adventure and other times it is just a slice between the adventure…… for example, I could have skipped the taxi ride and gone to the story of what happens when he steps into that abandoned house…. and, if i was writing a novel, i would probably have to do that…… to give the readers the satisfaction that they need….. the main character needs his revenge…… he needs to resolve the situation and get his old, boring life back.
      I know all this but the only part I gave you was the taxi ride…… maybe that is where the problem lies…… it’s all in my head.
      It’s not just you who has not warmed to this story…… the number of reads and likes is way down. I don’t write for the ‘likes’, but they do tell me something about a story.
      I loved this story as soon as it came to me. I loved the way it played out, and I liked both of the characters that the story describes, but I have noticed that stories that feel like they have come from a ‘longer work’ don’t do as well on this blog.
      People who visit this blog expect a certain type of story, I guess.
      For my part; I like to experiment. I like to try different stuff. I have particularly enjoyed writing from a female perspective [The Blue Dress was one of those].
      Naturally, I wish that every story that appears here will get a large reaction, but I also know that that is not how the world works.
      Please keep commenting…….. especially if a piece does not resonate with you……. I need to know what works, and what does not work.
      Thank you very much for taking the time.

      Liked by 1 person

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