Going Home

I was driving home. It was late. Snow floated down from the sky. The road glistened in the dark. There wasn’t any cars on the road. Everyone was at home. At home with their families, where I should be. The radio was the only thing keeping me company. A low gravely voice announced song after song, static interrupting him every once and a while. Karen hated static.

“Change the station!” She would whine. “No, Not that one!” “The second preset, not the third!” It would go on and on. I could never find the “right” station. There was always “too much talking” or “too many commercials”. But i would never say anything, only change the station when she told me to. It was always like that. Karen would talk and I would listen. 

I opened my mouth in a long, satisfying yawn. God, I was tired. The long day of work had drained all the energy out of me. My eyelids felt heavy. I could barely fight the urge to pull over and fall asleep. Would I really be missed? I thought. If I did just that, would anyone care? I thought of Karen. Probably not. But then I thought of Emilia, my daughter. She was probably sleeping right now, dreaming of the father she never really saw.

If it was my choice, I would spend all my time with her, but a unforgiving work schedule didn’t allow that to happen. Everyday, I had to leave in the morning, before she was awake, and return home long after she was asleep. The need for a pay check always won out over a ballet recital.  

Payday. That word always lightened the mood at home. But not today. Not today because the word “last” would have to be put in front of it. The mere thought of breaking the news to Karen made me want to shrink up inside myself. I could hear it already; the yelling, the swearing, my weak attempts to remind her that “little ears” would be able to hear.  

I guess I was distracted. Preoccupied with life. Maybe if I was just a bit more focused on the road, I would’ve seen the deer. Maybe I would’ve had time to swerve out of the way or honk the horn or something. But that was not what happened.

For a moment, I was in complete shock. I lost control of the car. Next thing I knew, I was in the ditch. Blood was dripping in my eyes. It felt oddly warm on my face. That was all I could think; why is my blood so warm. After awhile it became rather soothing. I closed my eyes and let the warmth wash over me, and at last I could sleep.