A World Lost
By Annie Kinzlmaier
I called my mom to explain that I'd be late.
She didn't answer, I left a message; did the same thing on my dad's phone.
It's strange that I haven't heard from either of them.
If they can’t answer the phone, they always quickly return my call.
Always.
Roberta was at her appointment, but was immediately sent to an imaging center.
It was there that the doctor told her the news.
The dent on the left side of her chest was a tumor.
There is a police car in my driveway; I wonder if someone broke into the house.
But that wouldn't explain why the police are in our driveway.
The physician's mouth was moving; she could hear what he was saying.
This wasn't happening to her.
She called Jimmy, her husband, and he met her at the medical center.
There was so much to say, but really so little.
I feel my whole body tense.
I left them messages. I told them I was okay.
The police officers turn their attention to Dell Duke.
Their muffled voices are still capable of being understood; I clearly hear four words:
They left Roberta's car and took Jimmy's so they could be together.
Jimmy and Roberta were in their own world.
He would have looked to see if anyone was entering the intersection.
But not today.
They were T-boned by a driver for Med-Service Hospital Supplies.
One piece of metal not mangled or burned was a triangle with lettering.
SAFETY FIRST! Tell Me How I'm Doing: Call 800 Med-Supp. I'm truck #807.
There's been an accident.
After that in whispers comes the news that the two people I love the most are gone.
Forever.
From ¨Counting by 7s¨, by Holly Goldberg Sloan