Red Light

It was an accident.

The thought echoed across his mind as the blood splattered against his windshield.

His hands shaking, he continued to stare at the crimson marked across his vehicle. Slowly, he moved his hand down towards the lever controlling the windshield wiper. Hesitantly, he clicked it down once.

He knew. Even as he watched the glass smear, he knew it wouldn’t go away.

He was so cheap that he wouldn’t get the windshield wiper pump fixed. A measly 40 bucks. It wasn’t even that hard to replace. He knew that he wouldn’t get someone to replace it. He’d be down another 40 bucks on labor. He would never do that.

Now, he couldn’t see. The lines of the old wiper drew red lines across his vision. What little sight was available was through a thin sheen of clouded burgundy. And another swipe of the wiper only made it worse.

He couldn’t slow down. He knew that was the wrong decision.

He wasn’t right for prison. He knew people who had gone to prison. They were covered in ink and permanent scowls. He was generally pleasant to be around. He couldn’t go around with a scowl. Then, people wouldn’t like him anymore. And work didn’t approve of visible tattoos. They couldn’t be on his neck or sleeve. It was for the customers, they had said.

Now through the red, bright lights shown. Flashing through muck on the glass, it hit his eyes in blinding red light. Then, the lights went to the left and the right circling and turning around his windshield like bright pixies. And, they were gone as fast as they came. The sounds of blaring horns leaked past the generic pop radio.

He had only ever listened to the radio because a female co-worker said that they like 93.5. He needed to seem normal. They never thought of him as normal. Maybe if he listened to that same radio, he would have something to talk with them about. It was always confusing. What was normal? What wasn’t?

The horns came again. This time they were louder. It was as if they were patronizing, accusatory.

His palms were sweaty gripping onto the wheel.

Like a waterfall, tears crept down his face. He didn’t mean to. Oh God! He didn’t mean to.

No! He had to think of anything but the damn red that was clearly in his sight. He didn’t mean it.

Red light leaked into his vision. This time it was brighter than he could have ever imagined.

It was an accident.