Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Panic Attack

One cloudy afternoon, Mr. Smitt drove towards the grocery store. While driving, he had time to think. He thought about what it would be like to run over someone in his car. Accidentally, of course. He pondered whether he would join the ranks of the hit-and-run drivers, or whether he would have the guts to stay and own up to his heinous mistake. He imagined his eyes would freeze open with fear, seeing the victim a moment too late, and feeling the sentencing bump-bump of car tires over the body. It would be like the nightmare he couldn't wake from. That moment would be so defining. Mr. Smitt had made mistakes before, goodness knows he had burned Mrs. Smitt's toast one too many times, causing her to eventually pack up and run off with the cook from the local diner. This mistake, he felt, would be different. Mistakes usually led to changes in other people's lives. He usually remained untouched. This kind of life-and-death mistake might bring his own life in question. He wondered if the state could execute you if you really didn't mean to hit the victim at all. What if they could?
By this point, Mr. Smitt had reached the store. He carefully parked the car, turned off the engine, and heaved his aging body up and out of the driver's seat. He locked the car, and walked off, towards the open doors of the grocery store.

No comments:

Post a Comment

M is for Margaret, who was swept out to sea...