Collusion In My Bone

When the truck finally hit me, I think it expected a fight. It expected panic, resistance, some desperate attempt to outrun what was coming. But I had spent so long wrestling with invisible things that a visible disaster almost felt polite. At least it had the decency to arrive with headlights. At least it announced itself. Unlike the quiet disappointments, the unanswered prayers, the thousand tiny griefs that slipped through the door every day pretending to be normal.