A Passing Thought

A crack in my windshield reaches 40 MPH over the speedometer

The webbed impact point indicates where the rock came out of nowhere,

landing between the point of swerve and scream.

My life does not flash before my eyes.  I instead imagine my police report:

Woman dies in Toyota.  Cause of accident thought to be loud pebble.

I could see my fiancé with a regretful heart—the vanished promise of a young wife and dinner plans. 

It would be weeks before he could be with another woman.

My mother, grief-stricken in her living room, gazes at the white box containing 

my unworn wedding gown that she wished was whiter than the ivory I chose.

The still-functioning part of her frontal lobe wonders if she could still get her money back.

The tragedy of things.

I do not think of my father.

I do not think of my sister.

I think only of my mom and my darling and how stupid it is to be panicked over such a small thing

as a rock.