Stood outside the station, five minutes pre-shift.
Checking the car, the equipment, the spares.
I feel their car before I even see it.
The booming bass from the stereo pulsates shock waves ahead.
They practically fly by, three young guys, in a suped-up car.
Must be doing sixty in a thirty zone.
"I'll see you guys later" comes to mind.
Along with the hope that I'm wrong.
I'm not. "Later" turns out to be only five minutes.
Three young guys, with one simple need.
The need? Speed.
Three young guys, with one inevitable end.
The end? The end.
3 comments:
You see someone like that. You fervently hope that you're not going to see them later, but have that kind of sixth sense that you will.
But still, "the end"? Grim.
I always hope I will see them later. Obviously not having harmed anyone else.
Teach them a lesson...
What my late uncle (ex traffic cop) used to call "An accident looking for a place to happen".
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