Conversations you don’t want to have

“Don’t get upset. I’m OK,” she said, “I’ve been in a car accident.”

“Where are you?”

She tells me. Central Parkway, Idiot driving too fast loses control and smacks into her. Spins her around. Side airbag deploys. EMTs check her out. She’ll probably have a bruise from the seatbelt. She couldn’t open the driver’s side door.

I drive down to the District 1 Police Station to get her. A Sergeant helped her get some stuff out of the back and drove her down. I circle the block once before I see her.

Home. I’d had dinner already cooked. We eat. Mia is on her lap. Dunkel is on the back of the couch watching over her. We’re waiting for a call from the Sergeant to give us some information. The insurance dance begins in the morning.

She’s OK. In the end that’s all that matters.


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