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nightlife

Near death experience

  • 27th Jan, 2005 at 2:28 PM

I was walking up Décarie last night, from Vendôme station. The night was deep and cold. The stars twinkled amongst the orange glare of the street lamps, as I shuffled my way up the treacherous sidewalks. The wind whipped snow into my face, and I huddled deeper into my jacket. My breath frosted my scarf.

As I was crossing Sherbrooke, that wide expanse of slick asphalt, I was only aware of the music in my head. Doppler shift. The sound of a horn screaming as a salt-encrusted car sped past me. Splashed me with slush. Missed me by microns.

I had crossed a red light.

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Comments

( 9 comments — Leave a comment )
elliptic_curve
27th Jan, 2005 11:54 (UTC)
I'm glad you're safe!
sfllaw
27th Jan, 2005 11:59 (UTC)
So am I.
joenotcharles
27th Jan, 2005 12:00 (UTC)
That's only ever happened to me at a green light.
sfllaw
27th Jan, 2005 12:04 (UTC)
First time this has happened to me in my entire life. Most of the time, I have this awareness of the traffic. Like a martial artist who knows someone is going to kick him in the back, reaches over to grab the guy's leg and spins him to the ground.

Toronto trained me well. Except I don't toss cars about.
sh8der_boi
27th Jan, 2005 17:08 (UTC)
Perhaps this is what distinguishes the poet from the non-poet. If this had happened to me, my post would have been something along the lines of:

HOLY SHIT! I just almost got fucking hit by a motherfucking car! Holy Jesus Christ mother-shitting crap-monkeys!

Glad you're okay.
sfllaw
27th Jan, 2005 18:10 (UTC)
Holy Jesus Christ mother-shitting crap-monkeys!

That's awesome. I have to use that some day.
sh8der_boi
27th Jan, 2005 22:47 (UTC)
For bonus points, try working it into casual conversations with co-workers and/or important important work-related e-mails.
pphaneuf
27th Jan, 2005 22:33 (UTC)
So that makes you the poet, right? ;-)
sh8der_boi
27th Jan, 2005 22:49 (UTC)
It's way too edgy and avant-garde for mainstream.

Black, black emptiness
( 9 comments — Leave a comment )