Red Van

David Chan drove a red van, a night circuit line around Mongkok, he worked ten hours a day, seven days a week, never pulled a sickie or late. For five years, he kept the routine. Just like Taxi Driver.

It was the best part of the city, from the outside, it was shopping mall, but the deeper he went, the nastier it became. Bar and prostitution, gangs and fights, were covered, wrapped in a modern setting.

One night, the road was clear and he sped to 90 and up on a straight, the beeping of the speed tracking device was going on so fast it almost stopped working. Then he slowed down at the end of the street and made a U-turn and attempted to achieve a higher speed, the thrill of being pulled backward by the undefined gravity, velocity, and kinetic energy.

He went over 100 and at a blink, he was driving through a mist, a fog that came so suddenly from around the building and engulfed the street. He slowed down and cruised around, looking for passengers.

Someone waved at him, and he stopped the van to pick up the person.