legs
crumpling under the bonnet, my body flying farther into the road as
the breaks were sharply applied. I saw myself hitting the road and
paper flying from my bag and falling slowly like sheets of
snow.
The vision felt so real, I felt the impact,
the pain, the breaking of my spine and crunch of my skull against
the shattering of glass. I felt my body hit and slide on the tarmac
road. The life drain from my body. I could feel the loss my family
would feel and I had gone for real this time. I felt the vision
fade from my head as the light faded from my eyes.
Suddenly and inexplicably my eyes opened and
I was pulled back from the belt on my jeans. I landed on my
backside with my feet in the air. A blue blur shot past me with the
sound of a horn held aggressively. I sucked in a massive breath. I
felt I was breathing life in for a second time. Like a re-birth. My
blood was flowing so fast through my body. I felt dizzy, then
nauseous. As my breath slowed, so in turn did my heartbeat. Vision
returned and everything slowed down. A face was in front of mine. I
could not make out the features or recognise who it was as my
glasses had flown from my head as I was yanked backwards moments
before. Only the voice was familiar.
“Close shave there eh son? Better take more
care, Look where you’re going ok? A Page walker does not fall so
easily. You have responsibility you know!” Came a voice in a strong
‘Culchie’ accent.
“A what? Who….how? Responsibility?” I spurted
out as I ran my hands on the ground to find my glasses.
“Those pages in your bag are more important
than you know. They are the lives of millions! The words have power
you can only really begin to understand by reading it yourself.” He
said as he stood tall again and backed away from where I lay.
“Wait! I shouted.
I crawled forward to follow the blur. My
hands feeling out forward like a snakes tongue. Feeling for my
prize, my glasses. I came upon them and fixed them to my face. My
vision much clearer I could see no one. No one of the path, the
road, anywhere near me. Only cars speeding past the lights before
they changed. I got to my feet with a stiff and painful extension
of my back.
I walked the rest of the way to the library.
Looking behind me at every turn to see if I was being followed by
my saviour. I was certain that man had seen me running, seen the
blue car and pulled me back. How did I know his voice? I was
comforting, like a voice from my childhood but I could not place
it. I could only think of the two green blurs I saw when I looked
up. Where they eyes? Two green eyes.
Where had I seen them before? It couldn’t be?
Could it?
I arrived at the library. The queue was long. As I
made it to the back of the queue, an older lady, the perfect vision
of a stereotypical librarian, came out to address those waiting. I mean she was a cartoon stereotype. She
was in her mid to late 50s, hair tied up in a tight bun. Bi-focal
glasses on her nose and a thin gold chain attached the sides of
them draped around her neck. A pink cardigan with yellow flowers
was draped over a white blouse, buttoned to the very top with
another white turtle neck underneath. A straight grey skirt that
reached past her knees to a pair of bland and worn black ankle
boots with kitten heels.
“I am very sorry to all those who have waited
so patiently today. Unfortunately we have been overwhelmed with
submissions and now have to close the competition. We simply cannot
take any more into consideration and have to act on a first come,
first served basis. I apologise again but thank you all on behalf
of the Arts Council for your interest.” She said from over the top
of her glasses. Looking down through the lenses she spotted me and
gave an apologetic shrug. Surly she had noticed the rips in my
jeans, blood staining the holes from the grazed knees I had from my
fall, my elbows bloody and bruising from landing on them? Surely
she had seen how hard I had ran to get here, the