Riding in the passenger’s seat while mom drives. It’s an extremely familiar thing for most children. I’m eighteen and its no different, the radio off and random chatter and updates are what is in the air. Rain falls mercilessly, drop after drop after millionth drop pound the vehicle with all their might. Soon traffic begins to slow to a sub average crawl. We’re not even out of town yet.
Of course.
Up ahead the image of crumpled cars are visible like a toy a forgetful or uncaring child left out in the road one too many times. Car. Car. Car. Finally one last car. What a way to begin the thanksgiving holiday. Hurry kids we have to get to grandmas house tonight! All Ruined. After passing them all you’d think that things would begin to pick up a bit. Nope. Oh yes, the piece de résistance. We see now, a behemoth moving truck flipped over on its side as if it was a hunter’s bounty. All of the contents strewn across the median like a freshly laden snow. Everyone just stares. What can you do? Nothing. It is so beautiful. Such a peaceful scene, no one knows how to react so no one does. We go on our way, slightly inconvenienced but not thinking or worrying about it half an hour later. Maybe not even half a minute later.
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