Sarah's Bookshelf

January 2014

Somebody is literally pounding at my chest, but I’m numb. At least I think I am, because I can only see. Shit, the scene is messier than I imagined. The car is still smoking and no-one is putting it out, all their attention is focused on me. Do they want me to make it? I don’t. People’s voices are muffled and my eyes avert to the spider-webbed windscreen and the large tree branch which penetrates through my car. Smoke plumes billow from the bonnet. Did they get me out? Did they drag me from the driver’s seat before the vehicle burst into flames? If they did, I could be paralysed and wheelchair bound. Perhaps that’s why I’m numb? Oh God, my face is unrecognisable. Don’t bring me back, please. Stop! Where am I? I stare at my feet, which are firmly planted on the tarmac pavement and glance…

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