‘Are you okay, sir?’
‘Yes, I’m okay,’ he replied unconvincingly.
‘Are you sure?’
He looks at the countless shards of glass scattered all over the car bonnet and dashboard, and front passenger seats. He has thick, bright crimson blood on his hands, and droplets of blood splash consistently like red rain, blotching his navy-blue jeans with reddish-purple spots. He feels his head momentarily spiral as if intoxicated by the blood’s sweet smell.
‘I’m okay,’ he hears himself say.
Then it gets darker, and a scarlet-red blood is spattered everywhere around him. Rivulets of blood wind their way down the car windows which are still intact.
At that moment he notices the pool of blood on the passenger seat next to him getting larger and larger. He sees a small hand groping in the dark, and can just make out an indistinct call for help.
‘Clay! Clay! Is that you Clay?’ he calls out.
§
‘Are you alright, sir?’
He is covered in beads of perspiration, and his hands are trembling.
He looks up momentarily to meet her phosphorescent yellow-brown eyes standing out in her squarish-tanned face, the right part of her face partially hidden with her long cascade of chestnut waves.
He holds his head momentarily in his hands.
‘Yes, I am,’ he then replies again.
‘Who is Clay?’ she asks in her sing-song voice.
‘He is my son…He is at his mum’s.’
‘Okay,’ she replies, and then adds, ‘I’m leaving then.’
§
‘Dad, let’s get going! We are nearly there. I want to see the sea.’
He smiles at Clay, who is sitting next to him on the passenger seat, ‘Off we go, son. The beach is calling!’
He ignites the car engine, and starts driving.
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