If one were to view in slow motion the moment of actual impact, it would seem almost ludicrous, as if this accident could have been averted somehow. The moment a collision makes contact to tear clean through metal, plastic, wiring, flesh and bones -- like a knife cutting effortlessly through melting butter -- seems almost poetic in its efficiency.
The very moment when the brutality of the jolt, rattles the skeletal frame like a rag doll, and one has to give up the ghost.
Who could have foretold it? When a pretty waitress flashed an amplified smile, and wished one to “have a nice day,” just that very morning.
Mark felt the surge of white-hot pain run through his body instantaneously. It ran amok the nerve endings of his back, starting from his cerebellum running instantaneously throughout his spinal cord. This causing an internal revolution of his nerves and synapses’.
Mark registered his pain, and turned around to see how Norman fared. The other car had smashed into Norman’s side, the driver’s side compressed like an accordion the compact sports car.
Mark unbuckled his seat belt, and turned to check Norman’s pulse. The bloodied, unconscious form was ample evidence that he was gone.
Mark could not move as gracefully as he should. His body protested and refused to comply. He managed to grab Norman’s right hand with his left, and was able to ascertain what he refused to register when faced with the evident.
Talk about bad luck.
Just a year ago, Norman had done the unspeakable to secure for himself spectacular wealth. He had not even enjoyed the bounty earned, until several days had passed, and he had recuperated from his ordeal.
True to his word, Norman from the start shared a portion of his wealth with Mark, and proclaimed him sole heir to his fortune.
During that year, they had traveled the world, lived it up in high style with plenty of women, lost relatives surfaced, and even paternity suits ensued.
Only one year to the day had passed, that Norman sold his soul for profit. How sad that he did not live longer just like he'd planned all along. I guess that is how funny life is, Mark thought. It plays on the strings of the marionettes, pulling on the weaknesses of characters in a drama enfolding during live theatre.
Mark could not help but laugh hysterically. His shrill laughter turned to shrieks of terror, when it dawned on him that he could not move, but his arms. His body would simply not respond. He was now the sole proprietor of Norman’s wealth. He would inherit millions, yet what good would that do if he could not walk out of this?
Mark looked out at the expanse of morning sky, such a beautiful day contrasting with such internal misery.
To be continued…
