I�m not sure what to say about Sunday, except that it ended in violence when a pick-up truck broadsided my car and sent it ricocheting through a shop window. The parts I remember of the accident are the parts I think I most wish I could forget. I saw the windshield crack from one side to the other; I remember being puzzled when the wipers flipped up, as if to wick away the shower of broken glass from the passenger side windows; lastly, I remember K screaming as the car careered wildly over the curb.
I don�t know where they came from, all the people who were suddenly out on the sidewalk, leaning in through the destroyed passenger side window and trying to comfort K as she moaned about pains too deep to articulate. A woman with red hair and an extremely worried face took my phone to contact the police, but May Day beat her to it. That same woman came back later, having ran to the drugstore to buy us some water.
One by one, my friends were loaded into ambulances and taken to the hospital. My car was hoisted onto a flatbed and hauled off to impound to await its destiny as scrap, its various bits and pieces swept from the sidewalk under our feet. Presently, I realized the crowd of concerned onlookers had dispersed, and I was alone in the gathering twilight, save for six bags of groceries rescued from my trunk, a pair of crutches K had been using to get around on her already broken foot, and the driver of the other vehicle who didn�t want to leave until my friends showed up to take me to the hospital.
Unfortunately, I cannot put into words all the things that need to be said; I hear them in my head every time I�m left alone in silence, but when I try to hold onto them long enough to let them come out, they seem to disappear. I do know the accident could have been much, much worse. We were spared from tragedy, and for that I am grateful. There were no bystanders injured, no deaths, and everyone involved was insured and will be taken care of.
It�s cold comfort, given that K is still in the hospital and all other fallout is far from over, but that�s what there is to hold on to at the moment. I�m not going to make a bunch of trite observations about suddenly realizing what�s most important in life, but the fact is that this has put some things in perspective. I'd like to also express a lot of thanks, which also can't be put adequately into words, to all the people who called or took time out of their lives, particularly on Sunday, to make sure we were okay.
Keep your fingers crossed for K.
Someone Got Here By Searching For: grossly long fingernails And: "wheel of fortune" "leather pants" I�m Watching: More of my Alias DVDs. Evil Francie is, like, the worst Francie ever. I could be a better Francie.