All moments funnel into one, swirl faster in eye-blurring fury and collide, shatter in slow motion.
Metal against metal.
I see the bike spin and slide across the concrete. D slams the car to a stop in the middle of the road and leaps out. I freeze in my seat, nauseous, gasping for air, head down and hands over face, folded on myself. Rocking, rocking. Back and forth. Back and forth.
“Thank you, Jesus. Thank you, Jesus. Thank you, Jesus. Thank you, Jesus.”
To be continued over at bibledude.net where I’m asking what hard things you can give thanks for.