wreckage

The day was starting to get to me. I didn't sleep very well, I had a desk full of work, I was tired and frustrated and nothing was going right at all. I stood up and walked over to the office window to look down at the streets. There was a car with its hazard lights on, parked on one of the side roads off Mass Ave. Outside, a woman was moving jerkily around the car--I couldn't tell what she was doing, but I figure she must have been inspecting it. Then she walked quickly and ducked into a building next to Bank of America, where I think she made a phone call.

I watched as another car drove up, as she explained what happened, as they looked at it and couldn't figure it out, as the tow company arrived and she explained again, looking cold. Then the car went away and so did they, leaving no evidence it had ever happened, which made me think of the one accident where there was evidence--they knocked out a crosswalk sign--and even then it was back by the next day.

I cleaned out my desk and called up a friend I hadn't spoken to for years, and we went out for a cup of coffee and I never once mentioned my day.