“I Was With You” – Flash Fiction
Car accidents seem so cliché and that, more than anything, bothers me most. You were everything but, which is why I hate telling people that’s how you died. Hit by a car. One minute folks are making small talk at a dinner party, sipping Diet Cokes and eating Triscuits, the next they’re staring out the window, embarrassed or shocked or both. What can they say? This many years later, I still don’t know how to respond either.
Is it possible to feel closer to you now than when you were still alive? I carry you beneath my skin, imagine you’re sensing the world through my pores, feeding off my pulse, resting with me when I sleep. It’s not that far of a stretch if you think about it. You started, after all, inside of me.