Snapshots

Man Killed in Car Accident on 4th Street

She closed her eyes, but sleep wouldn't come.How could anyone sleep after watching someone die? Who wouldn't hear thedesperate, squealing tires, wouldn't jump at the gunshot-sound from thecolliding metal, wouldn't smell the noxious odor of burnt rubber, wouldn't seethe image of that helpless doll of a man being projected from his seat onto thepavement, wouldn't taste the blood from biting their tongue? She had onlywanted to cross the street, only wanted to wait until the red hand disappearedand the green figure started flashing, only wanted to go to the Chineserestaurant on 4th street and pick up her order of chicken lo meinand cheese wontons before going back to her apartment and enjoying the nextepisode of that true crime show. Instead, she had to powerlessly observe aman's gruesome final moments, had to speed-walk shakily into a restaurant andmindlessly snatch some food she had ordered, had to exit the restaurant andcross the street and see the sickening sight for the second time whilefirst responders hadn't even arrived yet, had to float up the apartment stairsand fumble numbly with her keys and sit stiffly on the couch with her food onthe coffee table and eat two bites before forgetting about it completely, hadto curl up on the couch with a throw blanket because she felt if she stood shewould vomit, had to try and get some kind of rest because she had work in themorning, had to make some kind of peace with the fact that she may never sleepwell again, had to tell that dead man's flying body to get out of her damnhead.