PREMONITION: By Alexa Rima
Thursday, September 29th, 2011Suddenly, she knew.
Kathy didn’t know how she knew, or why. She was simply filled with such certainty that she dare not question it:
Greg would die today.
Kathy lessened her grip on the steering wheel, letting blood flow back into her fingers. Another wave of revelation crashed over her: she didn’t love Greg anymore. That was almost more surprising than the
news of his impending demise.
She hadn’t been in love with him for years, of course, but she thought she’d felt something for the man. His death would be a relief, she realized, not uncomfortably. Greg was a good man. Divorce would be too
messy, protracted, and painful to even think about. But death…
She wouldn’t wish it on him – wouldn’t wish it on anybody – but if it was fated to happen, she might as well start planning. If she allowed herself to be dispassionate about the whole thing, this was nothing
more than a socially acceptable release from a contractual obligation that had long ago staled.
As she switched lanes, Kathy wondered how it would happen. Car accident, probably. Or a heart attack. What with the hours he kept and his genetics, it was bound to happen sooner or later. She just hoped
it was fast. She wouldn’t want him to suffer. Greg was a good man.
Mikey would be torn up. Kathy’s lips quivered at the thought. Regardless of how heartless she might seem, she didn’t want anyone to suffer. Especially not Mikey. Kathy turned the radio down. They’d be
fine, she told herself. She was practically a single mother as it was.
Stupid programming career… Yes, practically a single mother, save for Greg’s money.
It occurred to her that they’d be fine financially after his death. Better than fine. Greg’s life insurance was worth $1.5 million, plus they’d get a few thousand from Social Security every month for years.
Yes, she decided, there’d be a transition period for Mikey, but this was all for the best. Maybe she could even start working on that catering business she’d always dreamed of.
She just hoped his death was painless.
***
The police officer stopped in front of the bench and cleared his throat. Kathy stared at his shiny black shoes.
“If you would…”
Kathy nodded and got up. Knowing about it wasn’t the same as living it, she realized. The lights, the sound of the shoes clicking against the linoleum, the temperature in the morgue – everything felt off
somehow. She must be in shock.
Keep it together, she coached herself. You knew this was going to happen.
The enormity of those words hit her. You knew, you knew, you knew. Why didn’t you do something? Why didn’t you call him, try to stop it, say you’d had a nice run – something!
A cry died in her throat. The officer cleared his. “We don’t have to do this, you know. There are other ways to identify a body, but they take time. The thing is, this accident was…”
The officer trailed off, sighed, then tried again, switching to a clinical tone. “The body was decapitated on impact. Death was instantaneous. There was no pain.”
Kathy forced her mind past the decapitation part. No pain, no pain, no pain. Kathy repeated it like a mantra to steel herself from what she was about to see.
She nodded slightly and the officer lifted the cloth. Kathy felt the bile rise to the back of her throat.
“What kind of sick joke is this?” she raged.
Kathy suddenly noticed Greg standing next to her. He motioned for the attendant to cover the remains. “That’s her,” he gasped, pale.
Superimposed over her husband, Kathy saw the 18-wheeler that had barreled at her earlier that day. Then she screamed, a shriek of pure fury at a life robbed. As her own sonic blast ripped her incorporeal
self apart, she heard Greg sob.
“She was a good woman.”
Then she was gone.
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©2011 Alexa Rima
