My Phone

Summer H

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I open the car door in a rush. Ding! Goes my phone. I have to get there in time. No time for my seat belt. Ding! Look at me, It whispers to me. I can’t. I’m driving. Come on. One peek and I’ll stop. Ding! My head hurts. A headache makes its home inside my brain. Thoughts of “I’m late” swarm my head Like bees attacking an intruder. I run a stop sign. Ding! This can all end. Ding! I’m already speeding. If I look I’ll hit a car. Ding! One look and that headache Will fade. You can make it to that interview. Ding! Fine! I grab my phone. Gotcha. Wha- CRASH! Out through the window And onto the rough road. As I lie here Like a puppet whose strings have been cut, I think to myself I could have prevented this. I could still be alive If I didn’t pick up my phone.