As she recovers from a car accident, Anita begins to involve herself in the lives of her neighbours.
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Moving to this place - a tiny crescent way back from the road - was supposed to help me not hear the traffic.
It normally works, but with that sharp turn on Morrow, someone screeches their tires at least once a day, meaning I panic at least once a day.
Oh... ah. The kids across the street appear to actually be locked outside of their house. From yelling, seems older one is to blame.
Hm. Noticing their house is built in mirror image to my own. Wonder if they know you can break in through the downstairs bathroom window?
Perhaps I go over and help?
With all the goings-on around the neighborhood, I didn’t even register the traffic this afternoon. Didn’t need the breathing or relaxation exercises.
I've finally found a distraction - the neighborhood itself - and I'm going to hold onto it for dear life.
Mrs E wanted me to give her a lift. Just to the garage, to pick up her own car. 5 minutes away, no trouble at all.
How can I explain that I can’t drive? That the last time I tried my hands were shaking so badly I couldn’t get the keys in the ignition?
That was. Well. That was bad. Not good.
Chasing after the dog. I wasn’t any closer than 20 feet, buut a truck drove past, and that was it. Next thing I was curled up on the grass.
I swear I could feel the glass again, smell the smoke and the blood again, hear it all, everything.
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