July 26, 2004 ~ Beating Heart, Breathing Lungs
Monday.
We'd worked at the rescue sanctuary all day long yesterday. We had planned to leave early, but we rarely do, usually staying until after dark. It had been a hot, humid day. We were both exhausted. I'd had cramps all day, got stung by a yellow jacket on my hand, and stank of the past-date donated fish we'd fed the wolves that evening. Shower then bed, shower then bed, was all I could think of.
I closed my eyes, leaning against the cool glass of the car window as Morgan drove us home. I felt us slow, then stop. It can't be our exit already...
I opened my eyes. Traffic was completely stopped in both westbound lanes on the Interstate.
Then I noticed all the flashing lights ahead. There was a huge accident just a few hundred feet in front of us.
A man in a pick-up towing a large speedboat pulled out from the line of cars behind us and started speeding down the shoulder, but was stopped by the police at the accident. "Selfish bastard," Morgan muttered under his breath. Sure enough, a few minutes later, an emergency vehicle traveling down the shoulder, trying to get to the accident, couldn't get past the impatient boat-hauler. Police had to waste their time trying to help the boat-hauler maneuver out of the way.
It looked like a semi-truck had merged right into a little silver car, which sat askew across the two lanes, crumpled, its rear-end against the opposite guardrail. God.
I've been there, with a semi merging into my lane, the driver not noticing my little car, huge metal bulk coming too close, too fast, cement barrier penning me in on the other side. Thankfully, I was able to slow down before the semi came all the way into my lane. The driver of that little silver car must not have. God.
Morgan and I watched silently as a stretcher loaded with a person slid into one of the several ambulances. They slowly closed the doors. Some emergency workers consulted with one another. The ambulance slowly pulled away and drove off down the interstate. At a normal speed. No lights.
That's never a good sign.
Faced with that, I no longer felt the ache in my muscles, the pain in my hand, the fatigue in my bones. Beating heart, breathing lungs. I reached over and took Morgan's hand in mine. "Love you."
"I love you too," he whispered back.
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