The Crash

The world blurs by in streaks of color. Breeze is refreshing and helps to cool me off. Thigh muscles pumping hard have the lungs pulling big gulps of air. A big swash of blue sky. Bold strokes of autumn everywhere. The car ahead forms a block of sparkling gold. The light overhead a splash of green to go with it. Instantly it turns dirty, dark and a shade of ugly red as an object slices into the frame. An ear piercing scream, shocking the volume that woman can muster. Then it goes quiet. That really scary quiet of the inside of the mind. No sound at all, no cars honking, no phones ringing, no crickets chirping, just silence. I know I am not deaf. There were noises before, but now it is just dead. Then I feel it, but not the pain that I would expect with a crash. I feel the whip. The crash test dummy kind of flailing. Arms and legs snapping with a crack. The body stops in mid-air but the mind doesn’t. I was flying along, wind in the face, wheels spinning fast. Now I am hanging in the air, in limbo somewhere above the ground. Wrapped around an dirty red metal frame with bright little glass crystals exploding everywhere. Unsure which way I am going. My body bent around the middle. Arms are stretched by the momentum. Reaching for nothing. I thought my hands were on the bars? My senses shift as I drift backwards incredibly slowly. A slow motion floating movement, void of any control. Where am I going? What happened to all the laws of physics; gravity, inertia, laws of attraction? Is this my spirit floating away? The impact hits me hard. Really hard. Air explodes from deep in my chest. The rest of my body follows to the ground. Arms slap, legs crash with a smack and ultimately I feel a thud as my helmet hits the ground. The strings are still attached, the parts are all still there but I have lost control of my marionette. Where is the handle? I have to get it together, get that handle back in my hand. The sound comes rushing back in a booming blast. Noises are everywhere and come from every direction; engines, people, sirens, screams. I hear a scream of anguish. I recognize that tenor, same pitch as before the silence. Still excruciatingly loud next to me but now it includes the tinge of fear. Then I hear the voice of concern. Soothing, caring, struggling to stay calm. “Are you okay? Can you move?” The voice is distant and slow, the words sticky. I can get this under control if I can just grab a handful of those strings. The world around me rushes back to normal speed. Nothing has changed but everything is different. I struggle to lift a leg, move an arm, fight to expand my chest. Just get it heaving, the stagnant air suffocates like a blanket. My marionette is out of control. Tangled strings in an unused pile on the asphalt around me. I need help, some serious help.