A screech followed by a deafening thud. Pain coming from my face. What happened? Breathe... I can't stop tasting it. My tongue ventures to see what's left. Still can't tell. The hand with the watch that braced for it, now sits near glass that is spider webbed and punctured. That hand reaches quickly for the face. The eyes uncontrollably roll back and forth trying to get a fix on where everything is. They catch a glance at the hand shuttering back from the moist lips. The hand is covered in warm thin blood. The panic sets in. It just happened, it's hurting. Before you can gather yourself you run your other hand across the shifter and throw it into reverse. It moves quickly. It runs, oh please! I just want to be home. Sliding the hand forward it's thrown into drive. The other hand throws the mangled steering wheel around to center. The surroundings are calm and peaceful, they hold my secret. The blood continues. The heart is racing. The mind is foggy. The trip home is difficult but done.
The next morning involves every emotion and an awaking.
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