Pills.

Something I wrote in year 11 for creative writing....

Pills.
The taxi screeched abruptly to a halt, piercing the dark night with the echo of tyres on tar. A black cat darted in front of the car, yet only the fluorescent yellow lights could be seen; a bad omen for the night, thought the man. He readjusted himself in his seat, fiddling with the settings on his camera and let out a soft sigh.