Ghosts Crossing

Today I saw a ghost. Or at least an uncanny doppelganger of a person I know to be dead. 

A few weeks ago, Kim’s Uncle Timmy (who “adopted” me as a fellow niece because of how close I am to the family) was struck by a car while crossing the street. He was killed on the scene. I’ve been disturbed by this ever since, especially since I am quite vocal about my near-incidents. Drivers are so inattentive where I live and work; always rushing more than looking. I couldn’t (and still can’t) shake the feeling that it could have been me. Maybe another street or another day, but it could have been me.

Vehicles have this habit of waiting right at the crosswalk line during a major left turn. They sit there, waiting for the moment you’ve cleared their path before they take off again. It’s intimidating, and I don’t always know if the car will stop at the line (so I usually stay clear of their path in case they don’t see me). I’m more used to it than I should be.

Today I was crossing a major intersection and a big truck waited at the crosswalk line so it wouldn’t plow me over. I looked up to see Timmy’s doppelganger at the other side of the street: small, bald, wire rectangle glasses, salt-and-pepper scruff, slightly oversized hoodie (Timmy was a small man).

Once I was safely on the sidewalk he looked at me and said, “You know that truck almost hit you!”

“I know,” I said. “They always do that.”

He scoffed, incredulous at the drivers here. “Well you be careful when you cross!”

I thanked him and said I would. He wished me a lovely day and I wanted to cry.

I never got my own duck-facing selfie with him, but here’s Kimberli!

Thanks for looking out for me, Timmy. I love and miss you xo


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