![]() ![]() I think it was at this point that the words “car accident” began to take shape in my brain. I tried to open my door, but it was jammed shut. Was I drugged?Īnd then, with an even greater sinking sensation: I’m going to be late to rehearsal… Did I fall asleep at the wheel? I speculated dazedly. Disoriented, I dimly guessed that I was inside a garage, and began to wonder – with a horribly sinking feeling – how I had gotten there. ![]() ![]() It was dark, but I could dimly see that my car was inside a building of some kind. The next thing I knew, I was waking up, still strapped into Percy’s driver’s seat. I saw what I took to be an opening in the oncoming two lanes and made my bold move into the center turning lane. ![]() You just need to be aggressive, I thought. As soon as possible.) Turning left out of my neighborhood is a bit tricky, particularly during heavy traffic and particularly after dark, but I’d accomplished it successfully so many times that I was confident in my abilities. (If you haven’t read The Scarlet Pimpernel …do. Dinner in tow, I sallied forth to rehearsal in my beloved Percy, a 2006 Toyota Corolla, which was blessed with a dynamic duo of namesakes: Percy Jackson, because of its deep-ocean-blue color and Sir Percy Blakeney, because…reasons. Ergo, on this particular Thursday, I followed the steps of my lifelong stress-dance automatically, blithely unaware that the music was about to come to a grinding (*literally*) halt. ![]()
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