Wednesday, October 28, 2015

Crash Accident




The woman climbed out of her car after a collision with a cement truck. She had smashed her head on the windshield and had shards of glass in her hair. A sheet of blood ran down her face. The back of her head throbbed with pain and she thought that was strange because the front of her head had taken the impact. The brunt of it. Blood filled her eyes and she saw the world blurred through a red lens. A lens of blood. She walked, stumbling and limping, across the busy street and went into McDonald’s. She heard people gasp and express concern as she made her way to the counter.
     “I’ll have a number two,” she told the shocked young girl behind the register.
     “Are you okay?” asked the girl and of course she wasn’t and she fell – crumpled is the word for it – and there she was staring at the cement truck through a frosted web of shattered glass and the blood fell across her face from the slice in her scalp and she noticed she was hungry and saw the McDonald’s across the street. Oh thank God for McDonald’s! She had trouble opening the door because the metal was bent but she eventually climbed out of the car. She stood a few seconds, brushing pellets of glass out of her hair (hair that was shampooed with blood) and then tried to make her way across the street, ignoring the traffic that honked and swerved and a couple of cars noticed the wreckage and pulled over to help and she made it to the McDonald’s and the glass door felt like it weighed a thousand pounds but she made it inside and people gasped and gawked and she approached a shocked young girl behind the counter and said, “I’ll have a number two,” and she felt the impact and her head hit the glass before she realized it was shooting toward her and she felt an electric thump inside her head and felt something warm and wet fall across her face.
     “Are you okay?” asked the girl behind the counter and she tried to tell her, No, she wasn’t okay at all but her legs gave out and she crumpled to the floor just as the cement truck pulled out in front of her and she hissed a tense gasp through her clenched teeth just before the impact and darkness slammed into her and she blacked out or at least fell into sudden sleep (what’s the diff?) and when she opened her eyes she saw the cement truck through a field of shattered glass. God, she was hungry and she noticed the McDonald’s and she climbed out of the car. She stumbled forward and her left leg hurt and she could feel blood or something (she hoped it wasn’t pee) running down her leg and her head hurt and the world tilted and spun behind a red lens of blood and cars swerved and screeched and honked and the girl looked shocked when she asked her, “Are you okay?” and someone yelled “Call 9-11!” and she crumpled to the floor just as the cement truck pulled in front of her and it was Goodnight Irene and when she came to, a sheet of blood crossed her face and she wiped her eyes and forced her way out of the car and she had a mission to make it to the McDonald’s. She crossed the street, ignoring the angry traffic. “Are you okay?” said the shocked young girl at the cash register. And then Wham! she smashed into the cement truck and the world shut off like someone had flicked a giant light-switch and she was dead, that was her last thought, I’m gonna die! and her head struck the windshield and wiped out her thoughts and when she came to, the world was red and she forced open the door and lurched out of the car and her left leg was wet with blood or pee and she limped across the street disrupting traffic and she made it made it made it to McDonald’s.
     “I’ll have a number two.”
     “Are you okay?”
     “Somebody call 9-11!”
     And there she was, driving along, minding her own business and out of nowhere this huge cement truck pulled out right in front of her and she had no time, no time to swerve or brake or anything and her brain screamed, I’m gonna die! and then nothing. Warm wet nothing and when she finally opened her eyes her vision was smeared with red and the back of her head was killing her and she looked out through a glistening web of shattered glass. She tried to open the door and it put up a fight but she finally got it open and she smashed into the truck and “Are you okay?” and she crumpled to the floor just as the truck pulled in front of her and “Are you okay?” and “Call 9-11!” and she crumpled to the floor and died.

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