Funny, I don't feel nearly dead. It's Gena who was shaking.
We had just headed back out on our bikes after a stop for a bite at Alexa's in Bothell. We were coming off the sidewalk at a four-way stop; I was ahead, heading off to our right. Then I heard Gena yell. I quickly pulled over to the curb to see what was wrong. Gena was down, behind me, at the edge of the sidewalk.
I said, "Are you okay?!" I had no idea what happened, but the bus driver who was turning said, "You better get that guy's license number." 'That guy' was in a big white pickup truck, pulling over and stopping.
What happened was, I was starting down the street, and the pickup driver was going fast, turning left into it, while he looked in a completely other direction, trying to find an address. Gena was sure he would hit me, and he wouldn't even have seen it. Nor would I. I would have just been dead.
It's nice that the guy stopped. He looked pretty shook up, as well he should have been. Gena was too shaky to ride for a bit. She'd fallen off her bike she was so scared. She hugged me a couple of times, just because I was still alive.
We'd been talking in the cafe about feeling blue, and I'd said, "Sometimes life seems so long." As we rode home, we talked about what the meaning might be of that near-death experience of mine. Gena said, "Maybe it's a reminder that life is short."
Sounds right to me.
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