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This short story, written in prose form came to me a few days after we brought my son home
from the hospital. The car he was in
left a Mexican road, rolled mid-air four times before he fell out.
Just after he hit the ground, the car landed on him, before it began to flip, end over end.
While Mike was in surgery having another piece of metal attached to his leg, I waited in the courtyard of the desert hospital. These lines came to me and only now, nine years later do I realize they are the metaphor for his evolution from the accident. |