Taxi

A sickly-looking middle-aged man gets into Azriel’s car. He asks for a ride to school. The cab driver looks respectfully at the customer and drives off. - Aren’t you afraid that I will infect you? — the passenger asks. - What do you have? - Tuberculosis. I’m in the first stage now, — the man coughed, — So I’m contagious. - No, I’m not. I have a good immunity. The passenger was visibly relaxed. - Why are you going to school? Aren’t you afraid of infecting the kids? - I’m working from home right now. I’m delivering a report. He pointed to the folder in his hands. Asriel nodded understandably. - I hope you recover. - So do I. But my wife doesn’t believe… - Don’t pay any attention to that! You know, it’s not uncommon for positivity to save a person? - Really? I’ll keep that in mind. The man smiled for the first time on their trip. - You know, I’m afraid I’m going to infect you. - Really, you don’t have to worry. I travel with all kinds of people. By the way, we’re almost there. - So soon? That’s good. When he got there, the man got out, not missing the fact that the cab driver drove straight most of the time, only once making a slight turn, but he didn’t pay much attention to it, and walked quickly to the school, anxious to get his report in quickly.