I almost got killed on Friday the 13th. The villain did not attempt to slash me with a knife as I cavorted wantonly at Camp Crystal Lake with my fellow nubile camp counselors. No, that would be too cool of a demise for me. (Please excuse the feeble attempts at humor, which are meant to cushion the utter seriousness of the fact that yes, I really did almost get killed yesterday).
The method of my near-execution was boring, predictable “pedestrian killed by inattentive car driver.”
All my attempts to describe my near-death experience in written word have been pretty upsetting, so I will resort to a pictorial combined with dispassionate use of the Third Person. (I apologize in advance for my exceedingly lame Illustrator skills).
#1 Friday, 6:45pm, the well-light intersection of Palmer Street and Broadway (a residential neighborhood).
#2 Pedestrian judges it safe to cross street
#3 Car accelerates towards Pedestrian.
#4 Pedestrian is saved by quick reflexes.
#5 Pedestrian reacts loudly.
#6 Pedestrian is traumatized.
