Peg Life Vol. 29

Holy FUCK! *SSKKKAAAAASH*
The time is 3:09 p.m. and I've just crashed my car. It is a warm June day but the Topaz, having been in the modest shade of the city's elms, is not uncomfortably so. The impact was uncomfortable, but not life-threateningly so. Iron & Wine's Muddy Hymnal still leaks from the stereo's three functional speakers. I turn off Paz's engine and step out. Upon asking, the other driver informs me she is uninjured. That is good. I walk up the block to flag down some police officers I had noticed in passing. They follow me to the scene and commence with appropriate procedures for their report. Information changes hands. Damage is assessed. Paz's front side is smashed. Likewise the other car, a Sunfire. Both are towed away, Paz likely to be written off. The police drive me to my aunt's house where I call in absent to work. My aunt drives me to the hospital where I wait three hours to be told everything seems fine and I should come back if any pain arises. The walk home takes me past Cousin's where I see Ellie on the patio reading a trade paperback of Garth Ennis and Steve Dillon's Preacher in the cooling evening. I stop for a few minutes to chat before proceeding home. I am going to have to take the bus to work tomorrow. Car crashes are awesome.

Tony Hawkins missed that last part and would like you to repeat it