As I walked hand in hand with my loved one, the soft, warm glare of the setting sun in front of us, I heard the unmistakable sound of crumpling metal high up on the bridged freeway. I let go of his hand, eyes wide open, trying to identify the scene of the accident over yonder. But I could see nothing. And soon enough, the cloying smell of burnt rubber wafted over to us. How fragile everything seemed then.
Was everyone okay? Amidst the loud rush of traffic, the silence that
ensued had me in despair for the people involved. I prayed quietly
for their safety. Not long after, the piercing sirens from the
paramedics and police cars could be heard. Distressed faces, tense
bodies, moving lips. And none of it reached me. None of it reached him. As if we had peered through a looking glass. We stood side by side, hand in hand again, marveling at the strangeness of it all.
And to think, just moments before, we had been happily snapping photos, enjoying a peaceful summer evening along this bike path.
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| How tender these moments seem. |
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What I wore:
Dress: Forever21 (old)
Sandals: ASOS
Photos: John
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