When the car made contact with my body, I didn't notice anything except for the speed, as I was thrown from the cross walk on Starr Street and St. Nick to the far corner where the chinamen slaughter the chickens and ducks. Then only the incredible stillness. Nothing moved. Then I was standing over myself watching my body bleed out by the steps to the Best King Live Poultry. I had a few of those small white feathers stuck in my hair.
How often had I avoided this corner? Every time. How much had I hated the clingy feathers blown all over the neighborhood? Stuck in dog shit. Gathering around skinny tree trunks. Clinging to a jagged bit of brick. And the smell. Now, there was no smell at all. Now, I was dying here.
I remembered the car being red. Now, I look and see it momentarily paused with the boy leaning out. He's seeing through me to the me on the ground. There's this muted yelling of his mouth. Then, I am hearing again. Someone turned on the volume. The boy is shouting to the driver. "You fucking killed him, dude, drive!" Then the smoking wheels and speeding away, I see it, it was a silver car, in fact. Oh well, silver or red, they are gone and I am dying.
A girl rushes up. I'd seen her before in the neighborhood. She never went in the bars. She's odd. Always wearing white. I'd laughed about her many times with Beau and Richie. Yeah it may not be cool to be a hipster anymore, but what is she?
Then she looked up at me, standing next to my body. She looked at me while she was talking into her flip phone. Who has a flip phone? Even my mother doesn't. She was telling them to send the ambulance. She was staring at me. The me standing up. Then she says, "They're coming. Try to hang on if you can."Read More