Unprompted: Skids

The first thing I remember is the smell. This vivid, acrid smell rising through the burning air. It had weight - substance. The smoke was part of it, burning my eyes and filling my lungs and nose with this roasted sensation. After that came the rubber...the heat of the metal.

The blood.

A long streak drug from my feet, all the way down the block to the end of the line. Police raced and dashed across it. A fire truck was parked alongside it, flashing lights and gleaming in the street lamps. It seemed too clean for the street. Untested. Unready. Paramedics were milling about. Milling - not hurrying.

It was then that the scent of meat caught my nose. I vomited.

I opened my eyes...followed the trail.

I vomited again.

Part of me wishes I knew the poor woman.

Part of me is glad I never will.