Interwoven Paths

Photo courtesy of Joy Pixley

We will never know whether the inexperienced young motorcyclist realized, for even a split second, he would fail to negotiate the notoriously tight curve, that crisp spring afternoon. Or what he was thinking when he felt himself losing control as he leaned too far into the turn….

What we do know, is that upon impact, his helmeted head was embedded in the shattered front end of a 1998 Chevy Astro Van, being driven by a man, an ordinary man, traveling at a safe rate of speed, down the same sector of road, demarcated as it was,  by two solid yellow lines, assuring his right of passage around the same tight curve…

And that life’s nemesis- death- had visited, and carried away with it, not only the broken remains of the motorcyclist that lost his precious young life, but also the innocence of a man, that now only vaguely remembers what it ever felt like to be- ordinary….

Word Count: 157

Written in response to Sunday Photo Fiction

19 thoughts on “Interwoven Paths

  1. I like the ending. It feels so bittersweet, like the person is famous, happy, and extraordinary in heaven – but, at the same time, could he be miserable in a hell-like existence? Does he exist at all? The lack of definitive answer leaves my soul just that tad bit of creeped out.

    Liked by 1 person

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