The man is running late, and traffic’s heavy,
now barely moving. He will miss their tee off
time if this continues! He abruptly makes a savvy
decision, cutting into a subdivision near the golf
course. Ring, ring, ring…answering his cell phone,
“I’m almost there. Five minutes away,” pressing down
on the gas pedal. Now speeding through a 25 zone,
the sight of children playing up ahead brings a frown.
He gently taps the brakes, slowing his Mercedes a bit.
A ball bounds into the street from between two parked
cars. The squeal of tires gripping fills the air... “I hit
something!” On a fated journey he has just embarked.
Running back to see what was hit, he sees a young child,
his face all covered with blood, lying still in the street.
“Please let him be alive!” The man’s heart thumps a wild
beat inside his chest, as he now kneels in the dirty street
beside the bloody boy. Suddenly, he loses his balance as he
is jerked backwards. A large man yells, “Just who in Hell
do you people think you are? Every day, every night we see
your fancy cars roaring through our neighborhood. Well,
now you’ve gone and done it! You have killed this child.”
As more angry people arrive, the scene begins to get mean.
A fist to the face causes the harried man to fall, all the while
the mob grows louder, bubbling with a hatred all too routine.
A brick sails through the air, into his head forcefully smashing.
The police arrive to find in the street two bloody victims instead
of one. Both are ambulanced away, sirens blaring, lights flashing.
The boy has superficial scalp lacerations, but the man lies dead.
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