A Perfect Accident
Week Three entry for brigits_flame
Promt: accidentally perfect
1,000 words
Comments and suggestions always welcome.
A Perfect Accident
by Kayden Eidyak
Today, a run in my nylons saved my life. Or maybe it was my cat. Or maybe it was my neighbor. I’m not sure.
I was running late for work. You know how that is: you hit the snooze button too many times, the coffee maker doesn’t want to work, you can’t find the skirt you know you picked up from the dry cleaners last week. One of those mornings.
I grabbed my keys, slipped on a pair of sneakers and tossed my heels in my bag. Snatched up my coffee and headed for the door.
My cat meowed plaintively and reached out a paw as I passed by. One of his claws snagged my nylons and I felt them run.
“Shit!”
Dropping my things, I ran to the bedroom, flinging open the dresser drawer and rifling through its contents, tossing various articles of clothing right and left until I came to a pair of nylons. I kicked off my sneakers, peeled off the offending nylons and pulled the other pair on with more haste than was prudent. But finally I was ready to walk out the door once more.
I punched the button on the elevator and waited at least thirty seconds, but it never came. Cursing again, I took the stairs down five flights, my bag banging against my hip as I descended. There was my neighbor who lives across the hall from me standing in the elevator, holding the door open while he talked to someone I didn’t know.
I gave him my most “pissed-off bitch” look before flinging the door open to the apartment complex and stepping out in to the fresh spring air.
I saw my bus--already a block down the street.
“Dammit!”
I sat down on the bench, positively fuming. The next bus wouldn’t arrive for another 10 minutes and took a different route that added more than five minutes to the trip. My boss was not going to be happy.
Needless to say, I was not in a good mood when I finally arrived at my office building.
I had just come through the door when I saw Kara walking from one cubicle to another. She spotted me in the same moment and positively screamed.
“Oh, my God! Lisa!”
“I know, I know, I’m really late,” I replied. “Bad morning; missed the bus. Is Steve very upset?”
Kara didn’t seem to hear what I said. She ran to me and flung her arms around my neck and started sobbing.
“You’re alive, you’re alive!” she bawled.
“Uh…is there a reason I shouldn’t be?”
Kara stepped back and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Didn’t you hear?” she asked in a hoarse whisper.
“Hear what?” Dread began unraveling in my stomach.
“The bus… your bus,” she began in a stilted, quavering voice, “the bus you always take. It…” She drew a great, shuddering breath. “There was an accident, Lisa. A huge crash. Almost everyone was killed. The ones who weren’t are in the hospital, but no one knows if they’ll live. It’s all over the news.”
I felt the color drain from my face and I was suddenly light-headed. I swayed and Kara grabbed my arm and led me to my desk.
No one knew each other on the bus. We all had our own lives to attend to, but there had always been a core group of people I saw nearly every day for the last three years. Like the man in the suit whom I had never seen without a phone pressed to his ear. Or the woman with the five-karat rock on her hand that sat three rows from the front reading trashy romance novels. Or the kid that was always plugged into his iPod, slouched in his seat with his cap pulled down over his eyes.
Gone. All of them.
“I’m so glad you’re okay!” Kara was saying.
I brought myself back to the present and nodded mutely, barely able to grasp the enormity of that morning’s events.
Kara was still talking, but I only half listened. Steve showed up at some point, and I think just about everyone in that office dropped by at least once during the day to tell me they were happy I was safe.
I functioned, I did my work and I responded as necessary, but really, the day was mostly a blurry mass of writhing shock. I kept thinking of all the ifs. The cat, the nylons and my stupid neighbor. Which of those events had saved me from certain disaster? All or just one? If the elevator hadn’t been held up, if I hadn’t had to change nylons, would I still have missed the bus? I didn’t know. But I was lucky, I knew that.
Five o’ clock came and as I gathered my things and traded my heels for sneakers, Kara stopped at my cubicle.
“I’m driving you home, Lisa.”
“It’s fine,” I started to say, but she cut me off.
“It’s not. I’m driving you home.”
I didn’t have the energy to argue with her so I just nodded in agreement and slung my bag over my shoulder.
The drive to my apartment was silent. Kara asked if I wanted her to come up with me but I shook my head no.
I felt like I’d aged 40 years since that morning as I walked in my door and let my bag drop to the floor. I set my keys in the designated dish on the counter with a clatter and sighed heavily. The cat came to greet me, meowing softly. I kneeled on the floor and stroked his head. I sat there a long time, thinking and trying not to think.
I lay in bed that night wishing I had known their names. I wished I had taken the time out of my life that I thought was so busy to find out who they were. But that’s the way of things, I guess. Hindsight, and all that. I can’t change how things happened in the past, but I can change how they happen in the future.
Promt: accidentally perfect
1,000 words
Comments and suggestions always welcome.
A Perfect Accident
by Kayden Eidyak
Today, a run in my nylons saved my life. Or maybe it was my cat. Or maybe it was my neighbor. I’m not sure.
I was running late for work. You know how that is: you hit the snooze button too many times, the coffee maker doesn’t want to work, you can’t find the skirt you know you picked up from the dry cleaners last week. One of those mornings.
I grabbed my keys, slipped on a pair of sneakers and tossed my heels in my bag. Snatched up my coffee and headed for the door.
My cat meowed plaintively and reached out a paw as I passed by. One of his claws snagged my nylons and I felt them run.
“Shit!”
Dropping my things, I ran to the bedroom, flinging open the dresser drawer and rifling through its contents, tossing various articles of clothing right and left until I came to a pair of nylons. I kicked off my sneakers, peeled off the offending nylons and pulled the other pair on with more haste than was prudent. But finally I was ready to walk out the door once more.
I punched the button on the elevator and waited at least thirty seconds, but it never came. Cursing again, I took the stairs down five flights, my bag banging against my hip as I descended. There was my neighbor who lives across the hall from me standing in the elevator, holding the door open while he talked to someone I didn’t know.
I gave him my most “pissed-off bitch” look before flinging the door open to the apartment complex and stepping out in to the fresh spring air.
I saw my bus--already a block down the street.
“Dammit!”
I sat down on the bench, positively fuming. The next bus wouldn’t arrive for another 10 minutes and took a different route that added more than five minutes to the trip. My boss was not going to be happy.
Needless to say, I was not in a good mood when I finally arrived at my office building.
I had just come through the door when I saw Kara walking from one cubicle to another. She spotted me in the same moment and positively screamed.
“Oh, my God! Lisa!”
“I know, I know, I’m really late,” I replied. “Bad morning; missed the bus. Is Steve very upset?”
Kara didn’t seem to hear what I said. She ran to me and flung her arms around my neck and started sobbing.
“You’re alive, you’re alive!” she bawled.
“Uh…is there a reason I shouldn’t be?”
Kara stepped back and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Didn’t you hear?” she asked in a hoarse whisper.
“Hear what?” Dread began unraveling in my stomach.
“The bus… your bus,” she began in a stilted, quavering voice, “the bus you always take. It…” She drew a great, shuddering breath. “There was an accident, Lisa. A huge crash. Almost everyone was killed. The ones who weren’t are in the hospital, but no one knows if they’ll live. It’s all over the news.”
I felt the color drain from my face and I was suddenly light-headed. I swayed and Kara grabbed my arm and led me to my desk.
No one knew each other on the bus. We all had our own lives to attend to, but there had always been a core group of people I saw nearly every day for the last three years. Like the man in the suit whom I had never seen without a phone pressed to his ear. Or the woman with the five-karat rock on her hand that sat three rows from the front reading trashy romance novels. Or the kid that was always plugged into his iPod, slouched in his seat with his cap pulled down over his eyes.
Gone. All of them.
“I’m so glad you’re okay!” Kara was saying.
I brought myself back to the present and nodded mutely, barely able to grasp the enormity of that morning’s events.
Kara was still talking, but I only half listened. Steve showed up at some point, and I think just about everyone in that office dropped by at least once during the day to tell me they were happy I was safe.
I functioned, I did my work and I responded as necessary, but really, the day was mostly a blurry mass of writhing shock. I kept thinking of all the ifs. The cat, the nylons and my stupid neighbor. Which of those events had saved me from certain disaster? All or just one? If the elevator hadn’t been held up, if I hadn’t had to change nylons, would I still have missed the bus? I didn’t know. But I was lucky, I knew that.
Five o’ clock came and as I gathered my things and traded my heels for sneakers, Kara stopped at my cubicle.
“I’m driving you home, Lisa.”
“It’s fine,” I started to say, but she cut me off.
“It’s not. I’m driving you home.”
I didn’t have the energy to argue with her so I just nodded in agreement and slung my bag over my shoulder.
The drive to my apartment was silent. Kara asked if I wanted her to come up with me but I shook my head no.
I felt like I’d aged 40 years since that morning as I walked in my door and let my bag drop to the floor. I set my keys in the designated dish on the counter with a clatter and sighed heavily. The cat came to greet me, meowing softly. I kneeled on the floor and stroked his head. I sat there a long time, thinking and trying not to think.
I lay in bed that night wishing I had known their names. I wished I had taken the time out of my life that I thought was so busy to find out who they were. But that’s the way of things, I guess. Hindsight, and all that. I can’t change how things happened in the past, but I can change how they happen in the future.