April 10, 2012

I was with my mother inside our Nissan Micra from 1993. We were going home. While going up a hill I some why decided to let the steering wheel go. I think I was testing the steering. My mother warned me about the cliff just outside the road, but I was overconfident and was too late taking control over the car.
The fall was like something out of the old Looney Tunes: the car was frozen in the air for maybe a second, the wheels and lower chassis fell, then the rest of the car fell. I was able to jump out but my mother took the weight of the upper chassis on her back.
She was lying on the floor, her back was facing up and I could tell she was seriously injured on her face and chest, even though I couldn't turn her over. She couldn't talk but was breathing. For some reason I decided to call my grandmother and ask her to call the police, instead of calling them myself. My grandmother began asking questions, and she was slow and couldn't understand everything I said. I was getting really annoyed with her, but she kept making me questions in a calm tone.
... .  .   .

I woke up, relieved. I remembered how my grandmother has recently recommenced over explaining simple things.