Karenina

A thousand ways to die, a thousand ways to kill, the mind, the soul, that is mine.

On the edge of sidewalk curb she stands and waits. But wait for what? For the cars to stop so she can cross...or for a speeding car with absent-minded driver, distracted perhaps by a cell phone? Staring into oncoming cars, mounting thoughts tangling onto each other, her dress flowing with the wind of passing cars, she is Anna Karenina in her final moments.

Two thousand pound metal comes to a screeching halt...

What would the impact feel like? What sound would it make? How many million thoughts would go through the mind? At what precise moment would it shut down? And the mangling of the body...to what extent?

Hush now, close eyes and sleep, for another thousand deaths wait for me tomorrow.