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It Was An Accident

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Everybody knows that when you get into a car accident, everything goes in slow motion. Time suddenly slows to Matrix speed. Every detail normally blurred and insignificant, is now in HD detail, and crystal clear like wine glasses washed in Cascade.

That's nothing new.

But what everyone might not know is that afterwards, you have to talk to a lot of people. A shower of people that appear like worms out of the muddy ground after a full night’s rain.

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First of all there’s the innocent bystanders. They come up to you and say things like, “Are you all right?” and “Who else was in the car with you?” and “Don’t worry, I called 9-1-1.” In this preliminary stage, where you are still trying to process what just occurred, reality has not fully set in. Yes, you see the car you just t-boned….and yes, it’s on it’s side, and yes, you are covered in broken glass, but most of you is saying to yourself, “Um, can’t we just exchange information, back the truck up, and get to our softball game?”

It’s only when the tall dude, with the professional haircut and the white pants leaps onto the hood of your truck in order to see if the driver of the van you plowed into is okay…and the sound of sirens in the distance, that you realize, that maybe this shit is a bit more serious than an insignificant fender fuck.