here, on friday

friday i got off work, sweat blanched from my ride and headed straight to the fridge for a beer. i plopped down in front of my computer to read emails that will take me inappropriately long to respond to and see what all of you guys are up to.one block away from me is a road well traveled at a curve that meets at four corners that causes blind spots. like once before i heard an odd noise. i can't remember if i'd heard voices first or or banging crashing. i assume the latter as a result of logical mind, but still i wonder. because of the strangeness and increasing intensity of the screams that went along with certain subsequent noises, screams that included :

"oh god no"

"oh no please, no"

"it was an accident"

"help someone, please, no"

and lots of strange noises and strange silence it's beside me to describe..., because of that i fought my inner voice, that said, don't get involved, the last accident you saw at that corner was a drunken fender bender.

at this point a thousand possibilities ran on in my head such as,

'someone hit a dog or else they'd be freakin out way more, saying names'. then i heard that scream that you know is more personal yet no personal modifiers for the exception of God. no names, no he's, no she's, no cussing..

and then i decided,

someone is hurt. the block away i speak of runs diagnol to a golf course, this four corner coordinate and course creates a strange echo.i thought about my daughter and relieved she's 80 miles north, i thought about my boyfriends kids, who are four blocks away, are they on a bike ride? i panicked and crawled barefoot on my bike and and headed up the block. i see at the stop sign a ginormous black truck, engine running, mexican music blaring. i see neighbors moving in like white blood cells to the intersection. i see a motorcycle lying on its side about 15 feet a way. a black, slick, streamlined, stealth number. all the while the cadence of the aforementioned screaming heightens in intensity. i look across the street at the most movement, a woman rocking back and forth in a chair a nearby neighbor must have brought. two people are holding each of her hand as she weeps and screams and one of them is the manager of a restaurant i worked at for 6 1/2 yrs. the woman is staring panicked at the man lying on the road who's being given cpr by a young resident boy, his belly rising and collapsing. she is looking at him and begging for someone to please help him and she keeps looking north in hopes for better more suited help.i immediately bow my head and join my hands and pray to ganesha, unsure to whom i'm asking things be removed for, unsure if that's what is needed. i'm trying to figure out who everyone is and i assume that she is the one who hit him. i then see a girl in her 20s go over to the truck she rifles through the glove box and seems unphased and unaffected. finally she shuts the music off, as it was inappropriately eerie considering the severity, yet i doubt at times like that, hearing is acute.

a police officer shows up and helps the boy with cpr. they stop and take his helmet off. there is no blood. the ambulance shows up and the gurneys come and clearly the man is pronounced dead. his head was flat, his leg was twisted and broken. i assume the helmet provided things to be intact, but assume a shattering within. i believe he died instantaneously. they traded the gurney for a white blanket and the police walked to the woman who was now moaning "no please no"

my old manager walked over and i asked if she had hit him. she had not. the girl in the white tank top heading to the truck did. at this point i see the truck's headlight crashed. i say, "then who is that?" she said it was his girlfriend and her daughter was nearby, clearly traumatized. they hauled off the girl in the truck after giving her a neck brace and the cops starting showing up like ants getting everyone to leave.

it would seem that no one saw anything.it would seem the girlfriend was several cars behind or ahead of him.

it would seem that life was not linear to me at that moment and i wondered how personalizing moments like that make it so. i rode back home as i was not of help or witness and i internalized what the next few hours and days would be like for all of these people who's lives are completely altered and their perception is ripped from their day to day reality, emotional, psychological, spiritual reality, yet the scenes of the normal every day are all around them.

we wake up, we make coffee, we brush teeth, these mundane tasks and chores and responsibilities are all still set in place, but like a vapor of some strange existence they will wander. there will be absence. i thought of what was the last thing they said to each other, where were they going, where had they come from. i wondered about the girl in the truck and wondered if it were me.i wondered if everyone's role was mine. if i had 'killed' someone. if i had been killed. if i had watched as my love died in front of me. if i was a cop, or the neighbor who lives right there. i thought about the young girl and if it was her dad or her mom's boyfriend. i thought about the girl in the truck and if she felt something now as shock seems to have put her in an unreactive place.

i thought about how personalizing things brings compassion. i thought about how i wanted to go and hold that woman who was screaming when i first saw her and tell her energetically things she couldn't humanly accept and i thought about how i wanted to do that thinking she was the one who had hit him.

i don't know anything more.

Done