Just about this time last night, my car got towed away.
I was involved in my first traffic accident.
I collided with a car as I was turning out from a slip road.
Two seconds before impact, I had an ominous glimpse a pair of headlights staring right at me.
One second before impact, I had flashbacks. I always thought it was a cliche but apparently, it’s not. Not this time at least.
Half a second before impact, I hit the brakes as hard as I could.
I heard my engine’s exasperated whirring, the sound of water spraying and John Mayer playing through the speakers.
“Something’s missing, and I don’t know what it is”, I remembered him singing.
The flashbacks were still playing in my head. In glorious full Hi-definition but on a 8x fast forward, punctuated by jarring screens of white noise. I saw images of my mother laughing over dinner last friday. I saw an ex-lover lying next to me in her dim-lit room. I saw myself staring at my own wrinkled hands.
At that point, I knew I wasn’t ready to go yet.
I was still breathing, no scratch or injury. Flashbacks ended and I stepped out a little shellshocked, but totally unscathed.
Fast forward to this afternoon. I was at the mechanic’s, doing the usual accident admin. We were looking at the extent of the damage and he turned to me and said, “You’re fucking lucky you’re unhurt.”
According to him, if the point of impact was a little to the front of my car, it would have spun me right into the center divider. If it was a little back, the other car would have smashed right into my driver’s seat door. If there was to be a collision from that angle, there would be no better spot to hit then that.
I’m lucky to be alive.
I’m fucking lucky to be alive.
Now, about 24+ hours later, I writing and reliving this one last time. Tomorrow I get back on my feet and start to make the most of my time on this earth.
Dear World, I’m not done with you yet. Not by a long shot.