Keep on singing little boy, and raise your arms to the big black sky

I've never seen a dead body before, and I've never really wanted to.

Last night at Mark and Ericka's was fun. We watched the stupid college football game, smoked cigarettes and drank Miller Lite from cans. We were telling stories and laughing, and then Texas won and I went home. Just in time.

I was ear-witness to a fatal car accident right in front of the Bottle last night at about 11 PM. I remember Chris helping the young Asian lady who had almost been hit, saying over and over "I'm fine, I'm fine" and the weird old stoner dude twitching around being freaky saying "I could've been hit, that could've been me". I remember running to the guy lying in a heap in front of the laundromat and thinking that he could be helped. I remember Rob and then the cop telling me that nothing could be done for him and later, back in the bar, Rob telling me that his brains were all over the sidewalk. I guess I didn't see it because I thought he could be saved, and I wanted to do something. I can still see him in my mind, eyes half open, body twisted sideways as if sleeping on his side, bike a metal ruin beside him. I can remember wanting to check his vital signs, begging the cop and then Rob and then the fireman to do something, to fix what was wrong with him. It was awful. I've never felt so guilty. I stood there stupidly watching the firemen pry the other guy out of his decimated Cadillac (sp?) with crobars, and then I went upstairs and made myself a very stiff drink.

Life feels a little cheaper, and a little more costly today, and 2006 suddenly seems to have started on the wrong foot. You don't have to call or get in touch, because I'm okay, if a little shaken. I just wanted to share.




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