The last of the winter coldness creeped into the sunny day with a final breeze that sent chills up my spine.
I stood by the busy road.
Waiting for my chance to walk across.
Every time I cross any street I remember the overused joke: “why did the chicken cross the road?”
To get to the other side.
Such a pointless joke.
I didn’t even consider it a joke.
Maybe that was the joke.
I shook the mundane thoughts out of my head and concentrated on the street again.
Once I thought I had my chance to pass, I took it.
With a slight jog, I began to cross the asphalt.
But as I ran through, the pen in my pocket slipped through and hit the floor.
The clicking sound instinctively made me turn around.
I was already late.
I didn’t want to be unprepared too.
With a sigh that expressed “of course it had to happen to me today, right now, right here of all places.”
I bent down.
I never knew I wouldn’t be able to get up again…
Next thing I knew, I was facing the most beautiful blue sky you have ever seen. The clouds seemed to be made out of the softest satin.
It’s like life slowed down so I could appreciate the creation of clouds.
While admiring the floating islands of white, my left shoe flew into vision.
The laces untied and dirty.
I should’ve cleaned them before I left the house.
No one wants to hire anyone that’s unprepared and sloppy.
I was already under qualified. Not to mention ten minutes late.
No real skills.
What was I even doing here?
I knew I wasn’t going to get hired.
But then here I was.
The clouds still looked so beautiful.
My shoe was no longer in view.
I was no longer flying.
The initial numbness and shock was gone.
My back on the rough ground.
Gravel and shards of broken glass stabbing my sides.
With the realization of what had just happened, the pain came at me like a tidal wave.
Everything was in anguish.
People were screaming, yelling, crying.
But I couldn’t hear them.
They all just surrounded me.
I felt like a show to them.
Some people were just gawking with gaping mouths as if I just attempted an astonishing stunt.
Others took pictures with their phones.
I would hate to imagine my bloody face all over Reddit or Tumblr.
Some sick pervert would jack off to the pieces of glass embedded into my skin.
He would imagine himself right there next to me.
The smell of gasoline and tar mixed in with the musty smell of fear.
Has anyone called 9-1-1 yet?
The pain was becoming worse and I could no longer feel my arms and legs.
A warm feeling came over me.
I knew then that I had lost control if my bowels.
How embarrassing and pathetic I had become.
Lying on the floor.
Dirty and bloody.
And now soiled.
With an audience.
I just wanted to make a good impression.
The shouts began to to get more muffled. As if they were in another room that was separated by thin dry wall.
Faces became blurred.
They were saying something but the pain prevented me from paying attention.
My mouth felt dry and my throat raw.
Had I been screaming?
What was I saying?
Those people probably think I’ve gone insane.
But I guess I had always been a little crazy.
Who jaywalks across such a busy street for a job interview that they know won’t get?
I felt bad for the dumbass who ran me over.
What’ll happen to them?
Did I ruin their life?
Add another tally to the board then.
Just when I try to fix everything, something like this happens.
Why like this?
My mom always said I was a whiner. Even when I got my way, I was never fully satisfied.
Now look at me.
I’m the highlight of people’s day. They’ll think of me when they get home and maybe even before they fall asleep.
What more could a person want?
People just want to be remembered.
I’ll be remembered as the failure that couldn’t even successfully cross the street without fucking up someone’s life.
My sight had faded into dark like my thoughts.
As the numbness began again, I got the joke. The joke wasn’t taking about the other side of the road…