Cold

I wondered if Josiah thought he was safe. He was safe, wasn’t he? He’d had his helmet on. But then the other driver came out of nowhere. I wonder what his last thought was before he slipped into the coma. Did he think about me? He probably didn’t. I wondered if he thought about the relativity of safety, and how unsafe he really was when he thought he was safe. He probably didn’t think about that either.

He probably thought about his dog Ike. He loved that dog, he always told me about it. Before his accident of course.

Thinking about him like this made him seem close by. I could almost hear him, I could almost smell him. He always smelled like that cologne that I bought for him one Christmas a long time ago. I could almost feel the pressure of his arms around me. And I almost felt safe.