pocket taxi service
We always gave each other thoughtful gifts, it was our rule. They didn’t have to be fancy or expensive, they just had to mean something, for birthdays or holidays or just-because.
So I was a little bit surprised when my going-away present was a piece of chalk.
I did that stereotypically girly thing and assumed jewelry when the ribbon-wrapped box was so small, but sitting on the velvet cushion inside was a single piece of chalk.
“I thought you might need it,” he said, but he didn’t explain. I knew better than to ask so I just said thank you and kissed him on the cheek like always only we knew it would be the last kiss for a while and we said our goodbyes.
I put the box with the chalk in my bag and almost forgot about it.
Tonight I found it again while I was looking for a pen and opened the box to take a closer look.
It’s a regular stick of white chalk, the velvet is all chalk-dusty from it, but the chalk itself is embossed with text: Pocket Taxi Service.
I wasn’t sure how long I’d have to wait, but the car pulled up almost as soon as I’d finished writing on the wall.
About flax-golden tales. Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.
brianne · June 29, 2012 at 9:32 am
Love this. How do you weave such magic in so few words? Happy Friday, Erin!
Leila · June 29, 2012 at 9:37 am
How lovely! I wonder how he knew.
Anna · June 29, 2012 at 9:42 am
Marcheline · June 29, 2012 at 2:03 pm
Hmmmm…. wonder if there’s a piece of chalk imprinted with “pocket pizza service”. Mine’d be worn to a nub.
Eileen · June 29, 2012 at 7:48 pm
A lovely way to start the weekend. Thank you.
susan · July 1, 2012 at 11:35 am
can’t help but smile…
Charlie Bng · July 9, 2012 at 4:23 pm
Your book has me bewitched (and I’m only at Condolences) and now I discover the pocket taxi service. Breathtaking! Thank you so much.
The photo reminded me of this
a similar photo by Mark Wallinger, Turner prize artist etc. etc. Making his mark perhaps.
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