Accidents

It came at night so quiet while in slumber I had wept. The shadow in my mind had bloomed like a single drop of blood and rippled its darkness through the stillness of my sanity. I felt the gears of time buckle and distort within the moment as the grinding sounds of metal on metal stripped my bare nerves into a frenzy of hysteria and disbelief.
I walked away that night. Was it German engineering, the hand of g_d, or luck? The investigators kept in touch. I'd like to think that they were interested in finding the truth, but maybe it was that morbid curiosity inherant to humanity that prompted them to continue feeding me the same pacifist bullshit, waiting for me to cave, to confess, under the presumed sincerity of their concerned tones and worn faces.
Some people believe that accidents don't exist. As one who let go of the wheel, I'd have to agree.

© 2002, Jennifer D. Lac Kamp