A silver metal in the shape of a pyramid hung from the rearview by a chain, swinging and catching the moonlight. Much to my surprise the cab was immaculate and looked as if it had been thoroughly cleaned just moments before. Visions of Cap with a bucket and rags, laughing away and furiously scrubbing the seats flashed in my head, the taxi splashed with wide swathes of blood and littered with viscera and chunks of human flesh. As Cap rocketed through the streets and hooked onto Mass Ave, I let the vision go and held on tight. Despite his breakneck speed, I felt slightly more at ease. If nothing else, Boston looked like Boston again, and at least I knew where I was. But I couldn’t shake the extraordinary and horrifying things I’d experienced, or help but fear what was still to come. Looking out the window at the city rushing by, I still felt off, trapped in some alternate reality where even the familiar was not quite as it should be and nothing made any sense. I was cold, frightened, sore and exhausted.
