Walking the dog, down the same sidewalk we take every night, back home. Down the side street that forms a T with the main street that we walk along a grey Chrysler, windows tinted, rolls, slowly, up to the intersection about ten yards too far back and comes to a complete stop. The green Lexus is parked in the usual spot on the side of the street, about thirty yards in front of me. Somehow I catch a glimpse of headlights way down the street, passed the crest of the hill. The Chrysler creeps forward, next to the stop sign and stops again. Headlights and the faint sound of a blistering engine begin to crest the hill. The Chrysler creeps forward and angles for a left turn, nearly into the street. I see it all in my mind, yet I keep walking toward it. I see the T-bone, and the aftermath play out in a millisecond. My angle never changes no matter how slow or fast I walk, I’m always going to be right in the path -the rollover, slamming into the green Lexus, glass shattering… hopefully everyone has their seat belts on. Does it matter how fast the Chrysler pulls out? or is it like hitting a baseball? In the same instant that he begins to turn he stops short and the Jeep flies passed. No time to check if seat belts are fastened.
the taste of canned green beans
in my nose