momentum

You are about to have an accident.

Don´t worry, you’ll be fine, but in about five seconds the car you’re in will come to a sudden halt against the edge of that massive middle divider. You see, there’s a lorry heading in the opposite direction. In a few seconds it will swerve to avoid hitting that motorcycle up ahead. Instead, it will crash into the middle divider, pushing the huge slab of concrete directly into your path. Your car will crash into it and come to a full stop, you will not. 

Don´t worry though. You´ll be all right. 

The motorcyclist will hear the crash behind him and turn his head to see, causing him to lose control and topple over. His motorcycle will be sent spinning across the lanes, and he will land hard on the cement with the upper part of his torso. The forward momentum of his body against the friction from the road will cause his chest to slow down and his legs to keep moving forward, folding his body by the middle. His helmet will save his life, but it cannot save his spine. He will never walk again.

You will be fine though.

You will notice a slight pushback from the windscreen against your face before the weight of your body forces it to yield its plane and shatter into a swarm of diamonds, refracting the full spectrum of colours all around you. As your body emerges from the sparkling cloud, a shadow will darken the skies above. The trailer attached to the lorry has swung around, broken free and is now on its own trajectory, opposite to yours. In just over five seconds it will land behind you on its side, sliding into the oncoming traffic.

Don’t worry, it will pass clear above you. You’ll be fine.

As the trailer makes contact with the road surface behind you, you will hear the scraping of metal against stone, and the low moan of deforming steel. Shortly after there will be a quick succession of loud crashes, adorned by the jingles of shattering glass from the unlucky drivers first in line, and finally the screaming of tires and breaks.

The lorry driver will manage to pull her vehicle away from the middle divider, and wobble precariously across both lanes before coming to a safe halt. She will remain seated until help arrives. Then, she will give statements to paramedics and police officers. She will call her employer, the insurance agency and her grown children, and when all is settled, she will get behind the wheel, and take her lorry safely to the terminal, never to drive again.

You will see the tarmac surface rushing beneath you, slowly coming closer as the force of your trajectory slowly loses its duel with gravity.

Don’t be afraid. 

As you make contact you will be sent spinning in a violent pirouette over the empty lanes in front of you. The spinning world all around you will make it impossible to know what’s up or down, back or forward, left or right, until the side of your face comes to an abrupt halt against the ground. You will feel the scrape of asphalt on your cheek, your hands and your pelvis, but no pain. The force of the impact will shut your brain down in less than a second and destroy the spinal cord. Your body will never move on its own accord again, your lungs will no longer inflate to oxidize the blood. Your heart will not supply the brain or your muscular network with any more fuel. The vessel that was your body has been spent.

Don’t worry, you can get up now.

It’s over.