Nastiness

A coming together of a bicycle and a lorry just outside my window... the girl on the bike hasn't moved since. Police and ambulance are now on the scene, as well as the obligatory crowd of onlookers. Very worrying.

Silence descends

I've watched someone die (Ayrton Senna, Monza, May 1994) live on TV. I've never seen it happen outside of my window. Until today.

A solitary memento

They really should move the bicycle. It's just sat there, against the fence, on its own, a bent and twisted reminder of what just happened. I suppose the police will want it for evidence, so they will take it away. I want them to. Every time I look out of my window, I can see it.

Every day of the week

I cross the road at that very spot each and every day I go to work. At the very least, I'll know why a bunch of flowers is tied to the railings, or the traffic light. All of my problems, all of my silly little nitpicking, suddenly seem so petty and trivial.

Back to reality

It's all back to normal now. As if on cue, the rain has come to eradicate every hint that it ever happened. I saw someone cross the road, step right onto the spot where she'd lain, just three hours ago. They don't know, but I always will.

I don't know who she was, who loved her, who will miss her, who is, right now, being told the terrible, shocking news that such a young life has been snuffed out in a moment. I know that what happened is, and will always be, a reminder to me that life is a precious, fragile, thing, that must be enjoyed and lived whilst you have it.