She waited at the last crossing, waiting for the chirp to sound letting her know it was safe to walk. Though the chirp did sound and she did start to make her way across the intersection, it was unfortunately not as safe as anyone who was crossing would hope. As soon as she got half way across, she heard the grinding of gears, the squealing of tires and the unmistakable sound of metal hitting metal but not stopping. Dashing straight ahead, hoping in vain that she was going truly straight, that there was a sidewalk ahead, empty of twisted metal and glass, she ran. She hoped. Surging forward like some sort of awkward bear, she tripped and felt herself falling, cane flying, arms stretched out to catch her fall, the screeching of the tires getting closer. She heard people screaming and her own heart thumping madly, echoing in her chest.
Her eyes open, seeing nothing save her ususal blobs, she lay on her stomach searching for the wreckage. She was, thankfully, unharmed except a few scrapes and possibly tears in her clothing. If she could just make her limbs move, and stop the mad thumping in her chest, she would be up and about in no time. Normally a person, once discovering they were fine, would rush to the accident and help. The problem was, she couldn’t. Even if the shock of the accident had worn off faster, what good would a blind woman be in rescuing others from the wreckage if she didn’t even know where the door to the car was?
Still laying on the ground she could smell gasoline, hear the steady drip of fluids from the mangled mass of cars, and hear that the crosswalk sign was no longer chirping. She managed to get herself up on her knees sitting back on her feet before trying to stand up. If she was moving people would leave her alone and focus on the wreck.
“Are you okay miss?” A voice shouted.
“Yes, yes! Please focus on the accident, I’ll manage!” She yelled towards the voice. People ran past her to the wreckage behind. Looking around her for her candy striped cane, she saw something.
Yes of course normally she see blurred objects, colors, lights but this time she saw something. It was small and glowing faintly orange, spherical and she felt as if it was… almost staring at her. It was not blurred. It was not what she thought of as solid. It was not behaving as a light would. It zoomed out towards her. Quickly she thrust her arms out as if to stave off an attack. (Because you know light bounces off flesh so well.)
She waited for impact and yet, nothing happened. Opening her eyes and lowering her hands she searched her surroundings.
Blurs, movement, lights, sounds, but nothing distinct as that orange sphere. Looking back, whatever it was, it was gone.
Shaking her head, she told herself the shock was causing her to imagine, and she located her cane. Cautiously getting up, a well-meaning bystander came up to her and asked if she was okay, told her an ambulance was on its way, and would she like some help getting to the sidewalk? Normally, she would refuse aid, she was self sufficient and perfectly capable of detecting a sidewalk. However, today, help was appreciated.
Sirens got closer and soon a large white blob pulled up and people in blue jumped out and after a quick examination prepared to away someone. The woman, for it must have been, called out to the paramedics and before she could stop the woman, she was receiving a quick check up. Questions were asked, knees were examined (her pants had ripped at the knees and she had some nasty cuts there) and she was given quick and effucent first aid. Assuring all involved she could make it home, a male police officer overruled her judgement (isn’t that just like a man?) and she was driven home.
But the thought remained. What was that light she saw?
Logically, police lights were mostly blue nowadays. She left her cane but the front door. Ambulances had red lights. She walked to the kitchen, hitting the side of the countertop a bit with her arm. Tow trucks had… tow trucks had orange lights! A wreck, obviously would need a tow truck to carry away the damage. Yes indeed. She opened the fridge to pull out a yogurt and get a spoon, second drawer to the left of the stove.
She ate her yogurt and threw it out, counting the steps to her bedroom. She went to her closet to pull out a new cami underthings and yoga pants (behind the jeans) and stripped, getting into the shower. Excellent bandaids held fast as the water worked its way down weary muscles and roadwarn skin.
Toweling off, she thought of Chinese food, and wrapped a towel turban style around her head. Padding out into the bedroom she turned her head towards her nightstand/ cellphone to activate “Hey Siri,” and call the nearest Chinese takeout joint when she was met with a rather large, glowing orange sphere. Right in front of her face.
Like any red blooded,independent American, she yelped in surprise, lost her balance and crashed backwards into her winged back chair and toppled, quite helplessly, into its waiting wings and then both she and the winged back hit the floor.
Moaning in pain, she grasped at the wings trying to heave herself up and decided rolling off would be easiest. Rolling into a comfortable sitting position favored by most children. She cautiously turned her head.
Still hovering where she had stood was the orange light. Just as cautiously as she turned to see it, it seemed to float very slowly and gently to hover in front of her face.
“Well Hell. I must be dead.” She said to absolutely no one in particular.