Daily Prompt: Karma Chameleon

by Krista on February 12, 2014

Look at the stupid people lining up for the on ramp. I’ll just cruise up a bit and muscle in near the entrance, solid white lines can’t hold me down. Suckers.

Alright. Who’s this ass hole. Just let me in. Who cares you waited in line. I’ll just edge in, he can’t stop me now. Ha. There we go Honda man. Trying to be the line police but you got schooled. Don’t fucking honk at me. Suck on my little birdie friend. There he is. Chirp, chirp. Don’t be a hater ’cause you waited in line.

Ha. Let me weave through these mid-class sedans so I can get to work and put more money in the bank.

The money I would make vanished from my mind as the brakes went out in the beamer, which was impossible, its serviced every couple of months. Then the left side wheel flew off the axel and I veered hard hitting the back of a passing semi. The hood of my car was penned down, raising the back end up. The driver hit his brakes hard bouncing me up and breaking off the right wheel. I saw the the cement wall on the shoulder through the sparks of my axels grinding asphalt.

I was thinking of my wife naked and warm as I crashed into the wall. The back seat and air bag fought for who could give me the biggest kiss. It felt like their affections exploded my head. Then the fire started, a beautiful blue dancer, but instead of burning my car it was burning away all the pettiness in my life. Burning to a crisp all the moments I was almost the better man could be but instead took a different path. The blue flame burned all the bad choices of my life to ash until it was a raging white hot flame. Thats when it really started to hurt.

It seemed every I’m sorry I ever uttered was a log feeding the flame. Every I’m sorry not uttered was gas enraging the flames.

And then a silhouette came through the flames. Impossible. No one could survive that heat. What could be left of me to save? It was him. The guy in the Honda.

He just stared at me for a bit. No sympathy. No concern. It wasn’t the flames punishing me for my sins, it was him. Terror gripped my heart as he leaned toward me and whispered in my, “was any of it worth it?”. I knew he was talking about all the things he saw.

Was he in my mind?

He was. I felt the splinter suddenly. I didn’t know if he put it in my mind, or if he was the splinter.

I felt sorry for the things I had done. For being  a dick. For being annoyed that my kid wanted to talk to me. For waiting for the flames to burn sense into me.

And then air filled my lungs and the sound of blaring horns rang in my ears. The Honda was right next to me, the guy motioning for me to roll down my window. He had messy blonde hair. He pushed black rimmed glasses to the top of his nose and then asked if I was okay. His soft, forgiving eyes already knew I was. That I would be better than I had ever been. I barely nodded my head yes and he drove off.

I don’t know if Honda guy had anything to do with what happened, but he is tied to the memory of that illusion, or whatever it was.

Thank you Honda guy. I play with my kid as often as I can and I sure shit never jump the line.

Jimmie G.


nycgirl: He is real. I was at a party making fun….

pappabear: I refused to give a guy directions once and imagined being beating within an inch of my life….

timeoutman: I wouldn;t move my bag off the seat next to me on crowded bus

…hit me wife…cheated…hit and run…

It would be awesome if you would add your own flash fiction account of what you did and what Honda guy made you see in the comments field. Really. I would love your collaboration with this ~ Jimmie G.


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