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thisnewdayMy father and I were in his car and he was driving. At least I think it was his car. In the final moments, it seemed quite open, like one of those convertibles he'd always railed against, because they were unsafe. Or maybe that's just how it seemed, once we both understood our vulnerability.
Dead ahead, was a sharp curve and around the curve there was a guard rail. As we approached the curve, I began to realize that he didn't see it, wasn't going to turn with it, wasn't going to stop.
"Dad, slow down. Dad, stop. Dad..."
But we were already through the guard rail and immediately below us, and stretching for miles, was a huge excavation. And there were switchbacks and roads along side of it and roads leading into it. Just, you know, not where we were.
In a freeze-framed, cinematic, free-fall way, it was panoramic and beautiful. But, at the same time, it was happening far too fast to process anything else, except that we were going to die.
In that moment, we both knew that it was too late, even to speak.
Dead ahead, was a sharp curve and around the curve there was a guard rail. As we approached the curve, I began to realize that he didn't see it, wasn't going to turn with it, wasn't going to stop.
"Dad, slow down. Dad, stop. Dad..."
But we were already through the guard rail and immediately below us, and stretching for miles, was a huge excavation. And there were switchbacks and roads along side of it and roads leading into it. Just, you know, not where we were.
In a freeze-framed, cinematic, free-fall way, it was panoramic and beautiful. But, at the same time, it was happening far too fast to process anything else, except that we were going to die.
In that moment, we both knew that it was too late, even to speak.
