the following post is entirely fictional. Any resemblance to people in real life is entirely probable. But this did not happen, and Lord help us, hopefully it never does.
The wheels on the bus go ’round and ’round. ’round and ’round. ’round and ’round. The wheels….
She was trying to keep things calm even though she was terrified. Her knuckles ached as she clenched the steering wheel, squinting into the bright white sheet in front of her.
This was certainly not the first time she had traveled this dark road in the winter. She had experience, so this should be easy.
He had no idea. He was happily snug in his car seat, singing along with momma, the same as every Tuesday night.
Every now and then he would stick out a chubby little mittened hand and proclaim “ohhh” at the swirling terror around the car.
It delighted him.
It horrified her.
“Just concentrate,” she told herself. “Concentrate and keep things light. Take it slow. You’ll get there.”
The people on the bus go up and down. up and down. up and down. the people on the bus…
The wind would switch direction and the snow would swirl and swoop into a curtain of white. Her car would pull to one side while maneuvering an unforeseen drift across the dark road.
Ice patches would sneak up from behind the white insanity momentarily seizing the control she struggled to hold on to.
Her stomach would drop in that tiny second.
A prayer would be murmured, “please let me get us home safe. please let me get my little boy home safe.”
And back to the hypnotizing white swirls.
The door on the bus goes open and shut. open and shut. open and shut. The door on the bus…
This was the worst part of the commute. This long, dark road.
On warm summer nights they fly down this road with the windows open, laughing at the breeze blowing in their faces.
Tonight they bundled themselves against the bright darkness outside the vehicle.
She just wanted to get home. Inside their warm house. In their pajamas. Cuddling on the couch.
She let her mind wander to that place. Just for a second. Just for part of a second.
The wipers on the bus go swish, swish swish. swish, swish, swish. swish, swish, swish. The wipers on the bus go…
The world suddenly became incredibly small.
The wind incredibly loud.
She snapped back to their tense reality, but it was too late.
Their universe went all topsy turvy.
Very quickly their solid ideas of the physics of the world–knowing “up” from “down”–vanished.
There was a sense of being shaken.
And then the cold, white agony surrounded them.
As did silence.
Except for the blowing of the wind.