The cab

Dan slipped into the cab, out of breath from running around trying to signal one down, and handed the driver a slip of paper with the address of his house on it. He had found in the past that cab drivers often were not really listening to what he said and would go in the wrong direction or stop at the wrong place, which frequently resulted in him having to pay more because they had to travel an extra distance. He had had much better luck when simply handing them the address - though he still had trouble. Some cab drivers were simply incompetent.

And, unfortunately, his current driver seemed to be one such. Despite having clearly looked over the address, the driver was going in the completely wrong direction, away from his home, and was not using any kind of gps to navigate. Dan tried to correct the driver, to tell him that he really needed to go the other way, but the driver just waved him off, as though to say, "I know what I'm doing." Dan slumped in his seat, angry at what was happening, but he knew better than to try and just get out, especially when they were already on the freeway. He had no choice but to let the driver he take him where he would.

At some point, Dan must have fallen asleep, because the bump in the road jolted him awake, and he realized as he whipped his head around that he knew exactly where he was - and it was not home.

"What the hell are you doing?" he demanded of the driver. "How do you even know where this is? Why are you taking me out here?"

But the driver just looked back at him and smiled, his car unyielding.

They came to a stop in front of his uncle's house. Dan hadn't been there in years, and the last time he had been, he had run away from it. He had been young, and desired to get out of the country, away from the farm, and to see the world. He was tired of being a poor farmer's boy. He was tired of living with his uncle after his parents' death. So he had run. And he had never looked back.

His door open, and his driver got out of the car, quite clear in his intent not to keep driving. Dan growled and got out of the car. "I'm not paying you for this," he said hotly. The driver shrugged, clearly content with his passenger's statement.

Dan walked slowly up to the old house. It hadn't changed over the years. The farm was still bumbling along. There were a few animals mindlessly chewing at the grass. Reluctantly, he knocked on the front door. A minute passed before it slowly swung open, his uncle standing behind it, confused at having a visitor. But when he saw who it was, a look of shock overtook him.

"Hello, unc-"

And his uncle was on him, arms wrapped around him, holding him tightly.