The Book of Jack

We were flung sideways around the turn in the twinkling of an eye and then the truck rolled over and over again down several yards of the continuing roadway before slamming down on me once more and grinding to a slow stop yards later, like some kind of ghoulish cheese grater. That part seems to me like it's in slow motion. But the entire picture lasted only a second. Within the first flip, the torque threw my brother over my head and out into a field where he was badly scratched sliding along the ground. He somehow came unbroken and alive to a halt near a fence. In the following flip, the momentum threw my mother from her safety in the cab, harshly against the door and out onto the road and into the grass nearby. Somehow she too received only minor injuries, mostly bruises and scratches and like my brother would later be released that same night from the hospital. I on the other hand, was caught up in that crashing metal centrifuge and endured all the remaining flips; each time being crushed beneath the weight of the truck with each smashing impact and then finally acting as a wedge between the side of the truck bed and the ground. I slid with my heavy burden on top of me down the additional flashing yards of grinding pavement. Somewhere there I lost my conscious recording of my damnation and it is all flashy from there.