Every now and then we are reminded that a wrinkle here or there in time can mean the difference between life and death; disaster or escape.
Yesterday I was no more than 10 or 20 feet away from a rural intersection when a car full of teenagers blasted at a very high speed through that intersection without slowing or stopping. I felt I could feel their wake, so close were we.
They were playing "chicken," it would seem. When they saw how close we'd come, they shouted exuberantly, as if in exultation and a sense of victory, their laughter punctuated by the tangle of their arms saluting me through open windows.
A tad of time, and I could have been tee-boned and never made it home again, especially at the speed they were travelling; another slight difference in time and THEY could have been tee-boned, leaving weeping families and friends. And yet another fateful time between our two approaches to that intersection, and neither of our cars would have come close enough for me even ponder what I'm pondering.
I'm not sure these youthful beings grasped the same significance as I did; it's very possible this was for them another proof they were immortal.
As for me, it was yet another reminder that life at its brightest can be fragile.
R.A.T. (Rose About Town)
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