Skip to primary content

Accident | Feb 12 2003

An accident on the Interstate. Traffic crawls for miles. Dozens of emergency vehicles fly by in the shoulder: ambulances, firetrucks, an empty white bus that says POLICE in black letters.

Finally I approach. Flashing lights. People on stretchers being loaded into ambulances. Others with dazed expressions. My god, it’s a bus. No, two buses. One bus smashed into the back of another. The one that did the smashing has its front smushed together accordion-style. The driver must be dead, crushed. Are they’re trying to pry out the body, is that what they’re doing? I can’t see it, don’t want to see it, can’t see it, missed it.

Suddenly the scene is behind me and I’m zooming down the highway. I’m supposed to meet John at noon and will be late.