“I wish the taxi driver was outside,”

In the hushed theatre, as the audience leaned in, captivated by the unfolding drama, Jody’s voice cut through the silence like a gentle breeze. “I wish the taxi driver was outside,” she whispered, her words carrying the weight of longing and a touch of magic.

James, the genie with eyes like the ocean at twilight, nodded. His form shimmered, and with a voice as smooth as velvet, he replied, “As you wish, Jody. Your ride awaits.”

No sooner had the words left his lips than the sound of a car horn tooted softly outside the theatre. The audience, still entranced by the play, paid no mind, but Jody knew. She knew that outside, parked just beyond the glow of the stage lights, was the taxi—her chariot to the next adventure.

As the final act came to a close and the applause rose like a wave, Jody slipped out of the theatre. There, under the canopy of the night sky, sat the taxi. Its headlights gleamed, and the driver leaned against the car, a knowing smile on his face.

“Where to, Miss?” he asked, as Jody approached. Jody said have you got my coat the driver said handing Jody her coat