Tom ran into a woman on a bike yesterday. Actually, she ran into him. She sped through a red light and they collided in the intersection. All witnesses said it was her fault.
Still Tom carried the bigger stick as they say. The woman went to the hospital in an ambulance but the police said she had minor injuries. By the time Tom got to her, others were stroking her head and hand as she lay moaning in the street. There was no blood. He stood by, discombobulated.
And he is still discombobulated. Running into a bicyclist wasn't his idea of a fine afternoon.
The front end of the Fiat had some dents and the glass had a nice crack in it, so today was spent renting a car, and taking our car to Progressive where they will estimate the damage. On the way home we bought some KFC and ate in Liberty Park overlooking the pond. We considered how stuff happens.
Stuff keeps happening. It never stops happening. You never reach that age where someone says to you, "Okay, you've had enough stuff happen; it's easy peasy from now on."
Easy peasy is a con. Always hang up on people who call to tell you you've won a free trip to the Bahamas.
The one image I have of the past two days is Tom walking out of a building into the sunlight with the wind catching his white hair up like a sail on a skiff. Tom. His name filled my head and I had such a warm feeling.