On the Side of the Highway

The car spun 3 times

before crashing into the barricade.

Our car.

We were okay, me and my family.

We were unscathed.

Thank goodness.

It was all a blur.

It might as well have been a dream.

But the red and blue lights

reflected in the rearview mirror

somehow suggested that it was actually real.

The sirens were too loud.

Everything was blurry

because of the rain.

My heart was thumping.

I wasn't listening to what the police

had said.

I just stared through the droplet dotted window

until they told us we had to get out of the car.

I still couldn't believe it.

Why couldn't I believe it?

We stood on the side of the highway,

watching cars drive past.

Each driver, with a quick and stealthy look

to their left.

They saw us, cold and scared.

Yet they did nothing about it.

At the very least, 

some of them looked pitiful.

Some thought it was funny,

phones out, ready to take videos of

our suffering.

Others were just angry that we were

blocking the road.

That's all we were to them.

Road blockers.

My cheeks stained with tears,

I looked at my car,

Scratched and a bit broken.

It had saved us.

The mud, the barricade.

It had all saved us.

I began to feel grateful.

Because, at 6:02 that evening,

things could have been a lot worse.