Oh Deer!
Sometimes shortcuts turn into detours. Tuesday, my shortcut became an unexpected adventure. The week (short as it was) had been a real bear. I was looking forward to working from home Wednesday so I could get caught up on some projects due by Thursday.
I decided to take the long way home – to save time. I know, I know, the shortest distance between two points is a straight line… unless you’re dealing with rush hour traffic. The laws of physics rarely seem to apply down the stop-and-go corridor of a busy city street. (Although time does seem to stand still more frequently than not).
So, I decided to skip the regular direct route in favor of the fast-moving highways. The traffic was heavy, but wasn’t tethered to regular red lights. I had the music streaming loudly. “So Cruel” was the current selection. The rhythm matched the pulse of automobile engines racing with me and zooming toward me. But an odd beat crashed the expected tempo.
Was that a black flash in the twilight or did the dark of night descend with a thud? And what was with the flying glass?
I pulled to the side of the road. The noise of traffic invaded my cab. The air was suddenly cooler, and filled with automobile fumes and adrenaline. I brushed the glass off my bare scalp and looked at the window behind me – or what was left of it. A small hole was held in place by the plastic which once tinted the glass.
I got out. Nothing on the road to indicate what happened. No cars were stopped or even seemed to care. I called the police and pulled into a car wash parking lot. Twenty minutes later I had an accident report. The responsible party was listed as the Colorado Division of Wildlife, but the real perpetrator would likely never be found. He or she was probably a hundred yards or more off the highway, hidden in brush, nursing a splitting headache and licking a fresh wound.
It was a close call for both of us…