I always get a feeling when people fall asleep in my cab. They trust me to get them safely to where they want to go. Buddhists are trusting souls, aren't they? In either case, I am relieved when we arrive at the casino. I feel my blood pressure lowering with the oncoming solitude.

They climb out of the cab, stretch toward the sky. The old man reaches inside his robe and comes out with a wallet. He pays me and I stuff the bills into my pocket. The woman flashes me a look and then turns away.