We'd been working on a new section of road for a local city. Construction was complete, a ceremony was underway, the traffic lights were being changed and I was part of the crew removing the barricades.
We moved the barricades and I watched as traffic transitioned to what wasn't an intersection. Where motorists could drive down the crossing street before, there were now traffic lights dictating the right of way.
The cross street, which before had a stop sign, would now allow traffic to move, without stopping first. This was soon tested.
A car approached the intersection from the cross street, waited for the light to change and continued across the intersection.
A car, with a young driver and passenger, soon approached on the main road and it didn't look like the car was slowing....it wasn't.
Wrecks happen in slow motion to the observer and in an instant to those involved. The passenger in the car, with the young driver, had his arm hanging out the window, when the driver slammed on the brakes, steered away from the other car and they collided.
All I could think of was the carnage I'd soon see. The passenger's arm was where the cars collided and I knew there would be blood and pieces of flesh.
That's now what happened. The passenger must have pulled their arm into the vehicle, moments from the collision. They climbed from the driver's side to witness their friend receive a ticket for failing to observe a traffic signal.
We looked for a few moments, loaded up and went back to work on another project a few blocks away.
I can remember few things about the projects, but that event is still clear in my mind.
In Case You've Wondered
My blog is where my wandering thoughts are interspersed with stuff I made up. So, if while reading you find yourself confused about the context, don't feel alone. I get confused, too.
If you're here for the stories, I started another blog: scratchingforchange.blogspot.com
One other thing: sometimes I write words you refuse to use in front of children, or polite company, unless you have a flat tire, or hit your thumb with a hammer.
I don't use them to offend; I use them to embellish.