Cold World
I been flipped over in this ditch for a few
hours now. Not one car stopped. I don't think they will until mine starts to
smoke or catches fire. There's black ice on the road and of course I had to hit
it hard at a high rate of speed. Morning traffic doesn't stop for shit. I hit
the black ice on my way to a meeting about my new novel, "Dead Men
Lie." I hope I have a chance to talk about this. Otherwise this will be
all I have for my last words.
I am pinned against this door and steering
wheel. My hands are very cold and I am not wearing a sweater. My car tends to
heat up pretty fast, so I don’t wear heavy coats or anything when I go to work.
The windshield broke and my driver side window is gone. My legs are broke. The
engine is on them right now. I don't feel anything at the moment. I just hope
help comes soon. I cannot reach my phone. It fell between the seat and went
into another world, it seems.
*
It's been a few days. I lost this pen and
just got it back. My left hand is frost bitten. All but my thumb is gone on my
left hand. I found my wife's nail filer under the passenger side seat. It won't
do any good though. Unless I want to cut off my two legs and my left fucking
arm with it. Days and nights go by with nothing. I scream and I scream
with no result. They're going too fast to hear anything. And unless something
happens on the highway above me, no one will hear shit. I continue to search
the car for something. I been eating snow but my core temperature is getting
low. Rats ran off with my fingers too fast to snag one up. I am going to die
down here. And I am okay with that right now. I am so tired, and my brain is
shutting down. All I want to do is sleep. I think I'll close my eyes for a bit.
*
It's the fifth day. My left hand is almost
gone. Nothing but black up to my wrist. I'll be okay with that. I just want out
of here. I know my legs are gone, I have no feeling in them. I hear the traffic
above me. It never goes away. People going to their families and loved ones,
while I'm here, the cold taking my limbs. I can't scream any longer. My throat
is gone. Can't eat any more snow, I'm too cold on the inside. Every breath, I'm
closer to death. Every thought is one
less blast of energy I don't have. I might die tonight. I sort of welcome it. I
am beyond tired. Too hungry to think right. I would welcome it. I lie here,
waiting for death to take my body. What is beyond my body? A cold coffin of
this cars body? Do I go off and float around in some made up Heaven? I'm not
sure. But I am ready for a change. Please find me, please let me go.
*
It has been snowing all night and day
today. Finding my car is beyond slim now. I am under more than a foot of snow.
I'll be a mummy in the spring time some cable worker will find. I wish the horn
worked. It must have been dislodged during the wreck so I couldn't use it. No
food, and just snow to eat. This is the last time I try to write. I am just
going to shut my eye and go to sleep now.
*
I woke to the sounds of sirens. Men and
women yelling, "We have something over here!" It was all that I hoped
to hear. My head heavy and thoughts blurry, I opened my eyes. Black taking my
arm to my elbow, I try to look beyond that. I look up and see a bright light.
The End
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