October 13: Ambulance
Kristen Lindquist
Driving down a country road in the rain past hayfields and an inert tractor, I saw flashing lights up ahead. Their red and blue were just a confusing blur through raindrops on my windshield till I drew closer. A police car and an ambulance were parked in front of an old farm house. No people in sight; the unmoving facade of the house a blank mask for whatever drama was playing out inside.
One minute you're driving along, listening to music, thinking about some task you need to finish up at work. The next... flashing lights! Emergency! A potentially life-changing event is happening to someone. I don't know who lives in that house, will probably never know what was going on. But you see an ambulance parked there accompanied by a police car--meaning, this is serious--and you can't help but think how quickly life can take a strange and urgent turn.
Lights a wet red pulse,
ambulance waits in the rain.
Alive, I drive past.
One minute you're driving along, listening to music, thinking about some task you need to finish up at work. The next... flashing lights! Emergency! A potentially life-changing event is happening to someone. I don't know who lives in that house, will probably never know what was going on. But you see an ambulance parked there accompanied by a police car--meaning, this is serious--and you can't help but think how quickly life can take a strange and urgent turn.
Lights a wet red pulse,
ambulance waits in the rain.
Alive, I drive past.