.

.

I was driving

not fast

my music playing

singing

I don’t

can’t

sing

nor whistle

sixty

maybe seventy

I don’t remember

how fast

exactly

good

I felt good

the sun was low

reluctantly sinking

you know

eternal summer days

carefree

youthful

linger

fighting the night

wanting to live

me

wanting it to stay

alive

bright

seeing

bridges

enticing to the eye

attractive

canvases

concrete, paint and rust

dividing the horizon

hiding the setting sun

orange

red

casting cold shadows

veiling

darkness

the falling

so quickly

silent

timeless

bang!

the windscreen shattered

I screamed

the car jolted

violently

I carried on

until

I stopped

a few hundred yards

no more

Him

.

.© Paul Nichol.  2014

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