(prompt: 'impact' 7/6/2019)
"Help me! I've been in a car accident!"
"What?!? Are you in hospital?"
"NO... I'm at home." No mistaking the hearty sigh coming through the phone.
Ahhh... So you're not hurt?"
"Well, no... and yes!" The sniff this time had a disgusted tone... if that was indeed possible. Her tone of voice was certainly the most disdainful he'd heard in the few months they'd been wed. "No actual wounds, but I'm scarred for life. I know it. And little Dub... she surely is hurt. And scarred badly, too."
"But... what? How...?"
"We got run over by a semi-trailer."
"Run over by a semitrailer! One of those dirty big car-carrying types!"
"But hang on, you're home and you're not hurt... or you are. Or something. How on earth—"
"He ran over little Dub and hurt HER. But that's not the worst!"
"Huh?" And he tried to imagine how a Volkswagen driver could survive such a collision without terrible injuries, at the very least. THAT would be the worst! "But you're fine, so... ?"
He could picture her stamping her foot. "He didn't even feel me! THAT was the worst. Don't you get it?" Abruptly all the fire inside her seemed extinguished. Shock, no doubt. He told her to make a cup of tea and sit or lie down and simply breathe until he arrived.
* * * * * * * *
A few sips of Brandy helped ease her anger to an indignation-level with just the odd whimper. "I was minding my own business, waiting in the left lane of the Boundy Road T-junction, when this great mountain of a semitrailer pulled up alongside. Of course, I thought he was turning right."
"Yes but..." In an instant, her cheeks were flushing with renewed anger. "He turned LEFT, and at first I thought that was OK - must be safe to go if his great hulk was moving, but I didn't have the nerve to scoot around the corner on the inside of him. And as I watched and waited, his great wheels - almost as tall as poor little Dub - came closer and closer - each stinking set of them." Tears filled her eyes and she sniffed loudly. Knowing what her waterworks were like when her tear-tap turned on, he hastily handed her the tissue box, as she continued between gasps.
"I was so scared. I leaned over far as I could away from my door, snapping my seatbelt open, truly believing those great tyres were about to roll right over me. But just when all hope seemed gone, the last wheels loomed right next to me and went straight over poor little Dub's mudguard and front bumper bar."
"You could still drive home? Dub wasn't damaged too badly for driving?"
"No-o-o. We can sort of fix it with a bit of help. But wait, there's more—"
"This is the WORST, most scarring part!" Now she sobbed. "I couldn't catch him and stop him to tell him off - there was TOO much traffic and I lost him! He needed to know you just can't run over people and Dubs, even if you can't feel them!"
She blew her nose violently. "Talk about a victim 'impact' statement. This one would have been way high on the Most Important Precedents in History list..."
YOU ARE READING
Think I Can FlyShort Story
My 2019 collection of flash fiction and non-fiction stories inspired by a weekly prompt word begins. And who better to feature first than an Aussie achiever extraordinaire?