5/12/2023 0 Comments Eve & adam michael grantSomething white smeared in red hovers above me like a cloud at sunset. The pain slams me down, and I realize I’m not dead after all, although I really wish I could be because maybe then I could breathe instead of scream. I know I must be dead because in the movies there’s always a tunnel of brilliant light before someone croaks. I open my eyes and the light is blinding. I should be thinking about love right now-not apples, and certainly not a new pair of Nikes-and then I stop thinking altogether because I am too busy screaming. Between a bike messenger’s ropy calves I can just make out the 30% OFF TODAY ONLY sign at Lady Foot Locker. It reminds me of the bamboo wind chimes on our patio.Ī thicket of legs encircles me. It’s not an unpleasant sound, more delicate than I would have imagined. I listen as my bones splinter and shatter. I register the brakes screeching and the horrified cries before I hit the pavement. If not love, at the very least you should be counting up your sins or wondering why you didn’t cross at the light.īut you should not be thinking about an apple. When you die-and I realize this as I hurtle through the air like a wounded bird-you should be thinking about love. I’d noticed it because it was so weirdly out of place, a defiant crimson McIntosh in an army of dull green Granny Smiths. It was in a vendor’s stall at the farmers’ market off Powell. I am thinking of an apple when the streetcar hits and my leg severs and my ribs crumble and my arm is no longer an arm but something unrecognizable, wet and red.Īn apple.
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