he walked away.

this father of eight, walked away.

yes, he was a bit bloody and 40 minutes after impact, he still had hand tremors so violent he asked me to take photographs with my phone, but still:

he. walked. away.

a beautiful morning. too precious for me to rush in the fast lane.

radio off, windows down, i will not succumb to the madness of the freeway blitz:

a checkerboard of 2 ton torpedos ping-ponging traverse the asphalt, clocking up to 90 miles per hour, manned by monkeys updating their facebook status and lip gloss {concurrently}.

and just like that…. poof!

i see it happen 20 seconds before they do.

two cars, two drivers, two destinations.

too fast, too unconscious, too brash.

one swerve, one slam, 4 flips.

immeasurable damage.

drive safe m’loves.

remember the responsibility and privilege of the present.