1. ‘Crash’

 

The man was smoldering in the ditch

they had tried to put him out

he was a charcoal lump covered in white foam.

 

When they tried to get him in the bag

his skin sloughed off like that of baked chicken

and his half-skull head lolled.

 

His car was a desiccated metal husk

like what a robot insect might leave behind

folded into itself against a tree.

 

In the car next to me

a mother in vain

tried to stop her son from looking.

 

Her hand grazed his cheek

as she reached behind her seat

to cover his curious little eyes.

 

I looked at him

and gave a weak smile

wondering about the trauma he might face later.

 

He looked at me blankly,

then titled his head back

and pressed his open nostrils to the glass.