Transportation

Diverging from you is like getting T-boned by Wonder Woman's invisible jet: I just didn't see it coming. All I saw was the same day-to-day traffic I've seen every Monday through Friday for the last 2.7 years, same traffic patterns, same holding patterns, same red-light-green-light-switch-lanes-exit-here-idiot-drivers as ever. Slow down, blinker on, prepare for lane change, aaaand---

WhoahloywhatthepissinghellsoditallwasTHAT.

I see nothing new. Same cars honking and going around--though if I'd looked carefully, I'd see faces full of concern through rear windows trying to see if DAMN, was I alright?

I see nothing new, no signs of the accident that knocked the train from my thoughts and the glasses from my face, spilled my drink all over the floor. No sign, except for the wet floor mats, twin aches in my head and hands and left knee, the spidering of two windows, the odd new smiley-shape [ironic? maybe] of my car's frame.  And I am thinking "What did I do?" and "Who's fault was that?" and "How am I supposed to get to work now?"

And somehow, somehow I drive on--the car lurching on battered wheels and fueled by sheer shocked determination to just keep moving, it will fix itself, just move--without seeing if your brains were splattered against the inside of your invisible windshield, or if you lived to crash again.