Neil O. Nelson

Hearing the siren of an ambulance seemed appropriate, what with me waiting to be admitted in the hospital.

The times I’ve been in an ambulance came to mind, the two I remember anyway.  

Lucky me.

In the first lights flashing, siren-blaring ride, I had to take a front seat as Ralph was on the stretcher in the back.

I had a splitting headache, the result of our car hitting a bridge abutment broadside at 70 miles per hour.

Ralph never left the hospital; he never regained consciousness; the result of the same accident.

His last conscious thought, I’m sure, was his surprise and anger when I tried taking the steering wheel from him.

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