I'm in the middle of reminding myself that our brains don't recognise the word 'don't' when this train of thought is disrupted by a man falling off his bike, a result of his collision with a car. Far as I can tell he figured that he needn't slow down to join the main road as the car coming to his right was going sufficiently fast so as to pass him before he made his exit. However, my input on the situation had changed matters, for I had just started my short journey over a zebra crossing and the speeding car was entitled to stop to let me pass. This was something the cyclist had not planned for: the hasty deceleration of the car.
Sure enough, the car had stopped in time - allowing me to cross the road safely - but, alas, the bike hadn't. Neither had the guy on the bike who felt the full brunt of the car's glossy steel and then the concrete.
I carry on over the crossing but my attention has shifted from theories of 'positive thinking' to a slight concern for the fallen cyclist, a concern which I assume is shared by the the driver of the car. He promptly exits his car and circumnavigates it, although apparently not checking on the cyclist but checking for dents. Turns out this is his foremost concern.
Ah, but the fallen comrade is fine and he has risen looking more embarrassed than injured. My journey takes me in the other direction and I lose track of the developing situation. Did the driver find a dent, and if so does he blame the cyclist for said dent? Would the cyclist contest this judgement? And what about the woman with the dog on the corner, what did she think?
Another good point, I realise, is "What do I think?" I saw the whole thing and was arguably partly responsible - although not in any way wrong, let's establish that fact. Blimey, this whole thing could go to court and my testimony could be paramount in finding justice!
But by now I have rounded the corner and I am reaching for that button which summons the green man who will guide me safely across another road. I have become sufficiently impressed with the system we pedestrians rely on for navigating the busy roads; it works for us, maybe not so for cyclists. . . . Oh yeah, the cyclist! Well, I'm sure my contribution to the 'cyclist hits side of car' dilemma would offer no solutions and I commit it to my short term memory, hopefully to not linger around for much longer than a few hours - I may need the mind space for other, more important, memories.
The road I am crossing now was a road I attempted to cross a couple of weeks ago only to find myself stopping halfway as a car skidded towards me. In retrospect, stopping was less wise than carrying on. Had the car not skidded to a halt then my stationary position would have put me right in it's cross-hairs, if I'd carried on it may have only clipped a leg. Didn't matter; he stopped, my pride was hurt, everyone saw - the green man had not been present.
In fact, a couple of weeks ago was a bad week in terms of near misses of the automobile variety. If memory serves me correctly I totalled up four near-death experiences; two cars, one bus and one bicycle (admittedly not an 'automobile', as such) occurring on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday respectively. On Thursday I didn't go out, but did have a run-in with a cupboard door.
In terms of 'me almost dying' this had been a week of unparalleled proportions and had led me to wonder why it was happening. Was it 'meant to be'? Nah, I didn't buy that. Did I have an unconscious death wish? It is more plausible, but I wasn't convinced - I didn't want to die. At least consciously I didn't want to die. Were my enemies co-ordinating an intricate plan to terminate me? That question posed more questions - what enemies? And would I be worth the amount of effort it takes to effectively remove someone? It was a strangely flattering idea, but one not to be taken seriously.
That left me with 1. Coincidence - very likely, and 2. Mind On Other Things - also very likely. And my mind had been on other things, other things which I will try not to talk about in any detail whatsoever.
Oh, Other Things, how thou bends mine mind into shapes unrecognisable.
No comments:
Post a Comment