Thursday, May 25, 2017

What Are You Gonna Do?

She's dressed normally, maybe a little drably: patterned tights, tennis shoes, a beige coat that looks a little too big for her, even her simultaneously flat and flyaway hair, which might be a clue to a disturbed condition in other circumstances, seems appropriate given the wet, spattering rain that's been coming down all day.

Then she steps off the curb at the corner, against the light, and walks out into the middle of the crosswalk as the SUV barrels down on her. It swerves a fraction at the last minute, missing her by literally inches (her jacket billows slightly in its wake), but her expression doesn't change as she hops backwards and then strides forward again, again being missed only by inches by another car going the opposite direction from the first through the intersection.

Safe on the sidewalk, watching her make it to the other side despite her apparent best efforts at vehicular suicide, I look to the woman standing next to me, if she saw it too, and she almost imperceptibly raises one eyebrow, and shrugs.
One year ago: Asking
Two years ago: Meaner Streets
Three years ago: Anatomy of a Hanging
Four years ago: Starting Over
Eight years ago: 5/25/09 - Water Taxi Washing Machine
Nine years ago: 5-25-08 Your Guide to Firefighting

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