Five, Four, Three, Two, One

Henry W

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Five. Five of us squashed in the car. Me, Nick, Floyd, Jim, and Clyde. Cruising down the I-99, Each street sign Nothing but a blur. Four. Four times he held out his phone. Demanding, insisting, saying to me, “You have to see this!” I gave in and left the road free. Three. Three seconds, and… Three people in the other lane. Six souls I had just slain. Two. Only two of us left, as we spun into the tree to the right. One. One decision, and now I am the only one. Five. That’s how many times a day. I wonder…Nick, Floyd, Jim, and Clyde? Would they all have survived, if I just kept my eyes on the drive?