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Tigress by Ellen Tsagaris
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Ellen Tsagaris' The Bathory Chronicles; Vol. I Defiled is My Name
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Thursday, July 24, 2014

I was Almost Killed Yesterday; A Parable

I was almost killed yesterday, no, really. I was getting off a ramp onto an interstate, signaling left. It was my turn to go. Behind me, I caught a brief glimpse of a motorcyclist, no helmet, on a little black, yellow and green number. Zoom-Zoom. By rights, you wait your turn, first I signal and get on the Interstate, then it's his turn. Instead, I heard a horn, saw nothing because he was in my blind spot. I slowed when I heard the horn, and nearly ended up skidding any way on the shoulder of road. I caught a flash of green and yellow. Yup; he passé me! On the wrong side. Speeding. Then, he wove and wove in and out of the cars on both lane, this dangerous braid of 2-wheeled oomph. Then he disappeared. Any crash would have taken him out as well, and for all the speed cameras and patrol cars we have preying on motorists around here, no none caught him. Once again, I was almost killed yesterday. No one knows except this blog and whoever reads it. I didn't tell anyone. In a flash, I would have been no more. One little second of flash. Once before I had that feeling, years ago. I blacked out. Just went out, and to this day, no one knows why. I remember nothing. Just waking up, still lying on the couch, with my little dog trying to jump on me, our neighbor standing next to the couch, and my mother crying over and over, "I thought you were dead!!" I saw no white light, didn't see my grandmother. Nothing. Just, I wasn't there, and then I was. Life is truly too short. Too fleeting, and maybe, it comes to nothing. Forgive me; this has been a terrible week; wars, plane crashes, planes missing, children dying, many feared loss, natural disasters. These things should never happen, but especially not in summer. Yet, were the world to end tomorrow, I would have to say I would leave it frustrated and disappointed, as would many. For example, the nastiest of my sisters - in - law. Part of her excuse involves mental illness that runs in her family, and her attempts to self-medicate with Zima and anything else, and I do mean, anything else, alcoholic. And, of course, she has her men. You can't blame her entirely. She is very unhappy. The difference between her and me is this; I can acknowledge disappointment and frustration. They are my friends, those cousins you have to accept, but you still wish they wouldn't show up at holidays. She cant admit that's what's wrong with her, so she puts on heirs, keeps up appearances. She acts with superiority to hide her inferiority. Often, I feel sorry with her. It's about coping and self-restraint. She should read "Heart of Darkness." As for me, I look at the sky. Anyone sinking into the most dangerous despair should just look up at the sky. It's so blue sometimes, so infinite. It will make you want to go on. And, never look a gift horse in the mouth, either. It could turn out to be one of the steeds of the Four Horsemen.

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