We were back in Okanogan for whatever reason, walking along Main Street. Yes, it’s really called that. It was dusk and we were holding hands when you stopped me and pointed up to the sky. There was a plane zooming around leaving a trail of letters in its wake, “Jerry loves Jessica” it said. Such a grand gesture from you was so unexpected, it took my breath away. We continued walking and turned right to go up the hill towards my Mom’s house in town.
We stopped abruptly when we saw an overturned red truck. You went to the driver’s side and I cautiously approached the passenger side. Sure enough, the driver was still inside. We looked at each other and communicated without any words that we had to help this man. You put your hands beneath his shoulders and pulled him out from the seat. He was conscious and scooted himself out to help you. It suddenly looked like he needed more space so you hoisted the car up so that the driver could stand. Just as he stood up tall, you lost your super human strength and dropped the truck. It smashed the man like a pancake and we knew instantly that he was dead. It was then that you revealed to me that this was the man who you paid to organize the sky-writing. What does this mean?
poetryburns 