Four Seconds

This was his life now. Replaying those moments over and over again in his mind. It was nothing less than exhausting.

These re-runs had become a natural part of of his existence. Empty without them. He didn’t know how to function in a world free from it – the guilt that lingered through every part of his day, like a bad smell that wouldn’t come out in the wash.

They were there – when he brushed his teeth, when he waited for coffee to brew, when he stood on the platform fifteen minutes ahead of schedule. They were always there – when he lay awake at night, when he stood aimlessly on a rainy pavement, when he cried himself to sleep.

Those four seconds.

One, it emerged from the bushes quickly and immediately bolted into the middle of the road. Two, he had tugged the wheel to the left in an attempt to avoid it. Three, he hit her right side with such a force that she disappeared immediately under the van. Four, she was forever lost to a sea of grey tarmac.