An Awkward Silence In The Car
I just hit that guy with my car, didn’t I? Oh my god. I just hit that guy and he flew over the guardrail and landed perfectly into the bed of a garbage truck going the other way. And I’m still driving! I mean, this is a hit and run right now. I’m doing a hit and run and I’m on the second part! Someone should put a stop to this, I should put a stop to this. Of course I can only safely put a stop to this at the next exit where I’ll look for a place to pull over and try to remember the exact scene of the mishap—wouldn’t call it a crime yet—which might be hard to track down with it being so dark out. Not to mention both the oblivious garbage truck driver and I have driven progressively further away in opposite directions so there’s really no fixed location that I could easily pinpoint and return to in time to undo anything that’s already been done. But I’ll sort that out and contact the authorities immediately. I just know he isn’t dead because he landed perfectly into that soft bed of trash. He’s probably a little banged up from me clipping him at seventy miles per hour but he couldn’t have asked for a better landing. He’s very lucky. So this isn’t a hit and run per se, it’s more of a hit and think. Yeah, hit and think. First you hit and then…think…
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Robert Criss is a writer from Pittsburgh who writes to save the family farm. You can find his work right above this biography or below depending on where this biography is placed on the page in relation to the work. Follow his instagram @robertcriss
