March 3, 2015
Re: Entry 28
It had to be June, because I remember the chestnut bloom in the air. I rode up along the road behind the ambulance and saw the smoke before I saw the vehicle. Upside down, the wheels still turning, it had to be what—ten minutes? It was hard to distinguish what make it was in this condition and the road near the upended top was stained but not wet. It had been a Chevrolet, a Corvette and the stain was blood.
Pieces of fiberglass in long shards, more like chunks, lay all around, red metallic on the color side. The frame looked like a crushed piece of burnt aluminum foil, twisted by giant hands. The radio was still playing, I’m not sure how. Time for. A cool change. I know that it’s time for a cool change.
There were two. One dead right away. The other a year or so later. They were here and then gone. We had been playing basketball and they had stopped to ask one of the guys playing, their age, about four years older than the rest of us, to go along. He hesitated. Didn’t go. Probably saved his life.
Thirty-five years passed, I wonder if their parents if alive thought of them. I would have, and did sometimes.
If you only shine your light among other lights, how does that illuminate anything?