1 Memory Road

It's beautiful outside. A perfect fall day. Angela has her driver's side window open just a crack to let in the crisp autumn air as she rolls down the familar pavement.

She had been driving this road since she was a teenager. There were memories down every mile. Today, however, the only memories returning were dark ones. While this road is merely an asphalt path that connects two nearby rural towns, it has had more than it's share of heartbreak.

A familiar disgust begins to rise as she slowed for the first turn. The first flashback. The curve was sharp. Yellow warning signs flank both sides of it, telling drivers of the danger ahead.

It was a cooler fall evening when she rode out with the others on their rescue engine. As 1220 slowed to a stop, she could see a motorcycle discarded on the side of the road. Another motorcycle was on the shoulder. Properly parked, with the headlight iluminating past the dirt shoulder.

In the ditch she can see a masculine form kneeling beside something. It soon became apparent it was a someone and that she was injured. The man was livid. Looking up at Angela and her companions as they approached, he grolwed, "I can't believe he would just drop the bike and leave her!" Turning back to the female in the ditch and speaking much more gentle tone he said, "Hey the fire department's here. They'll get you out of here and patched up. I'm gonna go talk to this officer. Let me know if you need me!" She merely moaned in response.

Angela's brown eyes took in the scene as they began preparing the lady for transport. The strobing red lights painted the trees in an errie amber hue. The police's blue strobes alternately shaded the world in greyscale. If you pay attention to it for too long, you're bound to get a headache.

The poor lady in the ditch is Lisa. Her dishwasher blonde hair is full of dirt, leaves, and debris from being thrown. She was a passanger on the bike that wiped out. She didn't know the rider that well as they had just met in a bar. After dropping the bike and loosing his passenger, he took off running. It appears his friend has the better charecter as he stayed behind to help her. Angela shook her head internally. No part of this story sounded like a good plan to her, but most stories that end up with someone needing the fire department rarely do.

The medics thanked us for our help and sped off into the night with their charge. Lisa is lucky. A concussion, a broken arm, and a drunk story to tell her friends.

The moment passes and Angela is drawn back into the present. She deftly maneuvered her old square bodied Suburban thru the second curve and back to the straightaway. Her mood was sinking as the next memory approached.