Chapter 107: Wooden Death Spears

I push twenty dollars through the plastic divider between the front and back of the cab, anxious to breathe air that doesn't stink of cabbage.

"No change," I say as I throw open the cab door.

My hand catches the crutch tucked under my arm and it swings back almost hitting me in the face. I avoid the black eye from that attempt, but navigating around with these wooden legs will be harder than I thought. I've never had crutches before, and I found the three-minute tutorial my nurse gave lacking in a few major details. Like how the hell to walk with them.

"Do you need help, Miss?" the cabbie asks, but doesn't leave his seat.

I wrap my purse with my shoe in it around my shoulder and stick the bottoms of both crutches on the ground outside the cab. "Nope. I'm good. Thanks." With one large push-pull move on the crutches, I clear the cab and fumble with them on the sidewalk for a minute. Somehow I manage to keep my wrapped foot off the dirty ground.

The six tiny steps to the front d