Touching Apples

It's good to be alive.

I don't mean that in a general "My, the air is fresh today!" sense. I mean it in the "I almost got run over just now" sense.

There I am on the streetcorner, a four-way, stop-sign intersection, checking to see if it's safe to step off the curb. There are two cars stopped, one waiting to cross my path directly, and one waiting to left-turn across my path. After waiting a beat to see if either of them is going to take the initiative, I step off onto the street.

As I walk, I see the left-hand turner, a minivan, slowly begin to move into the intersection. He's rolling along like he's just taken his foot off the brake to see where that would get him. I'm used to drivers getting antsy and creeping up on me, so I think nothing of it.

I'm still walking, and the minivan continues to approach. It gets to that point where I'm expecting him to come to a full stop and wait for me to get out of the way, but out of the corner of my eye I SEE THE CAR SPEED UP. He's headed right for me, like he's bowling with one pin left and he wants that spare!

I actually gasp involuntarily and freeze, one arm thrust out protectively, preparing myself for the impact. Then, half-a-second before running me over, he jams on the brakes.

I stare at the windscreen, and then throw a big palms-up WTF? dirty look at him. So what does he do? Now that I'm standing still, he guns it and drives right past me, as I'm standing in the middle of the street, his wheels passing inches from my toes, the side panel of the minivan blurring past my nose.

I throw the palms-up WTF? to the other car that was waiting, and get myself on wobbly legs to the safety of the opposite sidewalk. I've half a mind to sit myself down right there on the ground to collect myself. But I keep going.

I remember that I need to buy apples.

At the grocery store, I find that my hands are shaking. I go to pick up an apple, and I half-expect my hand to silently pass right through it. What do you know? I'm a ghost! I got hit after all and now I'm one of those spirits who doesn't know they're dead.

The Rescue Mediums will have to come to help me find The Light, or I will be stuck here for eternity, trying to pick up apples that I can't touch. Sensitive types will feel an aura of sadness hovering by the Fujis and the Jonagolds. A cold breeze will inexplicably accost shoppers as they pick through the Granny Smiths.

But luckily I found myself still fully embodied. I got some beautiful, sweet apples. It's good to be alive.