-^-for posterity-^-

i never wanted to really talk about this but i can’t quite get it out of my head. every time i drive down the road i see it again. every time i see motorcycles driving six abreast and people crossing in front of them, the memory comes rushing back. at dusk, i always drive slowly.

one day i was driving with jack. he was riding on the back and we were talking about traffic. we were commenting about how drivers simply give and take without caring. no one holds a grudge if someone cuts them off or makes them drive more slowly. traffic flows like water taking the path of least resistance. if someone is driving slowly, just pass them on the other side of the road as long as you don’t see anyone else. on major roads (roads we would call two lane roads), normally motorcycles drive in both directions riding six or seven abreast. the slower drivers are always on the right.

if you want to cross the road, simply walk slowly and watch. the drivers will see you as long as you don’t make any sudden movements. you can cross the busiest road as long as you simply keep a slow, consistent pace.

in this culture as in any culture, the youth always drive recklosly. they feel power for the first time and they take advantage of it. they leave the constant care of their parents and they are free. when i was 16, i too took advantage of my freedom. i drove, at times, wildly. i pushed the limits only because i could. there was no one there to tell me to stop. i drove down back pennsylvania roads and kicked up a cloud of dust. i was in my own world. here, young people also drive wildly. they zip through traffic. they weave and slide. one moment they look graceful, like birds. the next moment they look suicidal.

we were driving and chatting when we saw two motorbikes driving towards us. they were flying. their lights were on and they were weaving through traffic, following each other closely.

there was someone crossing the street. i didn’t really notice him until he was too late. he was a man in his mid thirties normally dressed. he was walking slowly and following all of the unwritten rules.

the first motorcycle saw him at the last moment. he jerked out of the way smoothly and gracefully. it was a skillful move and i, for a moment was stunned.

then time slowed down.

the other bicycle was following him. he didn’t see the man walking because his friend was in the lead. he was driving a white motorbike and the light was on. the man walking across the street was looking at the bike that narrowly missed him. slowly the white motorbike impacted the man. the light seemed to hit him first. the man slowly crumbled under the speed and weight of the bike. he fell like someone took an axe and chopped off both of his legs. he fell quickly and was engulfed in the motorbike. the light went out and there was a sound. it sounded like a baseball bat hitting a plastic wall. it run through the air and was, for a moment, louder than the honking and the whirring of engines. one of the man’s shoes flew into the air. it flew high and spun. it flew forever. it tried to get away. the shoe spun and spun and was orange. the man was crushed by the motorcycle and time resumed its normal pace.

we drove and slowed. the man was on the ground and wasn’t moving. the bicycle was on its side and the two people riding on it were also on the ground. their legs and arms were slowly moving. traffic slowed and stopped. no one said a word.

the sound will stay with me the longest. the sound of a human body being brutalized. the sound of technology meeting flesh. the sound of a person’s life being changed in an instant.

i don’t know what happened to him. i don’t know if he lived. i know nothing except the sound and the light.