PICTURE ME DEAD
by Heather Graham
an excerpt . . .
The accident had occured in the far left lane. Ashley
was driving in the lane directly next to it, the lane which led to
the turnpike exit. As she moved along, she looked to the left, noting
gratefully that it appeared that neither driver had been hurt. As
she moved along, she looked to the left, noting gratefully that it
appeared that neither driver had been hurt.
But someone had.
As she crept along in her lane, she suddenly gasped.
There was a man on the highway. Sprawle in the lane, naked except
for a pair of white briefs. He was face down, head twisted to the
side, apparently dead. She'd gone through everything necessary to
become a cop. Taken the tests, and seen all the videos regarding the
type of horrors police were likely to be up against at some point
in their careers. But the sight of the man sprawled on the highway,
naked except for his underwear, was still shocking and terrible.
"Oh, my God!" Karen breathed at her side.
"What?" Jan demanded.
Ashley's hands were glued around the steering wheel. The entire scene
was fixed in her mind. The immediate scope, first. The position of
the two cards involved. The cop, and the cop car that had just arrived.
The body. Sprawled. Naked except for those briefs. The head, twisted.
The blood that seemed surreal against flesh and asphalt.
The cars, still veering, twisting off toward the median. And, across
the median, cars slowing, braking, the sound of those brakes screeching.
Far across the opposing lanes, someone standing, staring at all the
traffic, as if waiting for a light to change.
Ashley drove on past the body. It was still imprinted in her mind.
As crystal clear and vivid as a photograph. The rest, merging, blurring.
The cars in the opposing lane a kaleidoscope of color. The figure
standing, watching the scene...
Just someone. Faceless. Dressed in ...black.
© Heather Graham Pozzessere 2002
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