There is an acrid smell, the odor of burned plastic and rubber. She can hear the sirens getting louder. Someone is talking to her, calmly, gently, but she isn’t really understanding what is being said. She is disoriented, and her head aches; not from hitting the steering column, thank God, but rather from hanging there upside-down for so long.
She can feel everything, which is a relief. She is insured, which is even more of a relief. It will be a while before they cut her free; she bides her time wondering if any of the firemen will be cute.
***
Title by: Anonymous
Story by: David
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