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My name is Michael.
This is my tumblr.
The head of a company survived 9/11 because
His son started kindergarten.
Another fellow was alive because it was
His turn to bring donuts.
One woman was late because her
Alarm clock didn’t go off in time.
One was late because of being stuck on the NJ Turnpike
Because of an auto accident.
One of them
Missed his bus.
One spilled food on her clothes and had to take
Time to change.
Car wouldn’t start.
Get a taxi.
The one that struck me was the man
Who put on a new pair of shoes that morning,
Took the various means to get to work but before.
He got there, he developed a blister on his foot.
He stopped at a drugstore to buy a Band-Aid.
That is why he is alive today..
Now when I am
Stuck in traffic,
Miss an elevator,
Turn back to answer a ringing telephone…
All the little things that annoy me,
I think to myself,
This is exactly where
I’m meant to be
At this very moment
A CD probably saved my life once. This happened just a few years after I started driving. I was in my first car, a 1994 Dodge Sundance Duster. There was no CD player in the dash. I had a portable player with a tape adapter. I’m dating myself, I know.
I was at the intersection of two rural Virginia highways. I was the first one at the light when the album I was listening to ended. I looked through my case of CDs, picked one to listen to, and swapped it out for what was in my CD player.
I closed the player, hit play, and looked up to see that the light had already turned green. Just as I was putting my car into first gear, a semi barreled through the intersection. The trailer was rocking back and forth, like the driver was struggling to get control of the thing. The semi finally came to a stop a little ways down the road.
Normally I was one to sit an intersection, watching the signal, ready to go as soon as the light turned green. If I hadn’t been changing a CD, I probably would have been right in the path of that semi and probably would not be writing this story.
I wish I could remember what CD I put on.
I like to read at bars. The multiple concurrent conversations, the sound of pool balls cracking and pool sticks being dropped to floor, and the music playing in the room dissolve into white noise and I can just dive into a book.
When I sat down tonight, the bartender was not behind the bar. I lit a cigarette, pulled out my book, and started reading. The bartender walked out of the kitchen, asked what I wanted to drink, then asked what I was reading. American Gods, by Neil Gaiman. He asked if it was good and I told him that it was and that I’d read it before. He told me that he also re-reads books because you can get something new out of a book each time. He set my beer down in front of me.
One and a half beers later, reading a book I’ve read probably 4 or 5 times already, I came across a line on page 180 of my copy that causally predicts something that happens at the very end of the book.
In three or four reads (obviously not on the first; I didn’t know how the book ended yet) I never caught that line. Until tonight. After a bartender mentions that re-reading a book can reveal things you didn’t see the first time. Or second. Or third or fourth.
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