Tonight it was rainy. Well it had just rained and was now slowly drizzling. The night was still hot, humidity clung to the air like a tick to skin. I started my walk home and took my phone out to see if anyone called. Dead. I closed my phone and continued walking stepping onto the beginning of the bridge that would take me to my home across the river. Three steps onto the bridge I witnessed an everyday event. I couldn’t see much from the distance I was observing from but I could hear. Distinguishable sounds, the screech of tires on wet asphalt, the crunching noise of metal on metal, a pause and then the thud of a heavy object hitting artificial earth. An accident, probably a pretty bad one judging by what I heard. Cars stopped in the middle of the bridge and turned around, I kept walking. I had to cross this bridge to get home, the accident had placed itself in the one place I had to see it.

A man on a yellow bike passed me as I began to inch closer to the middle of the bridge. There was no smoke and no sign of fire anywhere up ahead, a good sign I thought. A jumble of cars, one on the opposite side with its door smashed in. I could hear a horn permanently stuck blaring out a single solemn note, the last word of a deceased automobile and behind it out of the darkness i saw the underbelly of a car. Black twisted guts exposed, glass shattered and its body strewn sideways across the road. People gathered staring at the car like a great steel beast that had just been slain. I kept walking.