Y) Slow.

She had seen the big white letters painted on the road; She slowed
her speed accordingly. It was the other idiot that was driving too fast
towards her.

SLOW.

For three seconds the world stood still, she counted them.

One.

Two,

Three.

In those three seconds, while the world stood still her car did not. It
was changing itself from an estate into a coupe, but all the excess
room was taken from the front where the mechanical bits were kept,
engines and things like that.

The other car, the enemy car, not only hit her headlong turning her
lovely automobile from a show model to a hunk of concertina scrap, but
it also drove her into the wall on Megan's side.

"Megan! Oh My God Meg."

She turned herself round to gaze into the back of the car. Had her
thoughts not been totally consumed by checking on her daughter, she
might have been surprised not to feel any pain. Shock did that though.
Shock took away the pain. Nature's way of dealing with trauma in small
pieces. Clever that, pain killers take twenty minutes to work and yet
shock can sink into every nerve ending in just three little seconds,
but she didn't think about all that then, those thoughts came
later.

"Are you all right Darling?"

Meg's enormous blue eyes were filled with unshed tears. Her two-year
old eyes were defying gravity by holding so many tears unspilled. There
were enough tears clutching the rim of her eyes to fill an adult's
socket. Some trauma was just too much for little people to cope
with.

"Bang Mummy" said the child solemnly. In the silence this obviously
didn't seem enough of a statement even for a toddler.

"Bang, cash, wop." She added bringing her little fist down onto her
knee with each word.

"Yes my darling. Bang, Crash Wollop." This had been the most used
sentence of the week. Megan was two, and two-year-old's had plenty of
opportunity to use the words 'Bang, crash, wollop' on any given
day.

Just this morning she had landed with a nappy-protected bump on the
carpet and said it. She had tears in her eyes then, but Mummy had
laughed because Meg's Strawberry milkshake had gone all over her head
and was dripping down her face. Meg laughed too. It was funny.

Meg had blood dripping down her face now, but it wasn't funny.

"Get out Mummy." she said pulling at the baby-seat buckle that was
holding her firmly in place. The tears finally gave up and cascaded
down her cheeks and her little voice was rising in decibel and pitch as
panic overtook shock.

"You can't get out sweetie, not for a little minute, Mummy seems to be
a bit stuck."

She released her seat-belt, that was easy enough, it rolled back on its
mechanism and disappeared to the side of the door as it always did, but
when she tried to get up, Mummy discovered that she was having
difficulty making her legs move.

From somewhere a long way away she heard a siren wailing.

Gary was aware of the loud and persistent car horn. It took some time
to work out that it was his head being in full contact with the
steering wheel that was causing the horn to blare so unsociably. He
lifted his head, but the noise didn't stop.

His face was wet and sticky and the cream fleck upholstery of his
father's car was turning crimson. Dad was gonna be pissed.
He saw the white letters painted on the road and slowed his speed
accordingly.

SLOW.

It was the idiot in the other car who took the corner too fast. He saw
her just before impact turning her head slightly to talk to someone in
the back.

She had been smiling at first.

But she wasn't smiling when the cars hit.

The windscreen had gone, his lap was littered with blunt pieces of
sugar-glass. Dad was going to be pissed all right.

"I'm trusting you Son," he'd said.

"I'm trusting you Son."

From somewhere a long way away he heard a siren wailing.

Reg had been doing the job a lot of years. He'd seen it all
before.

"Three fatalities" he said "Young male, late tens, driver of an Alpha
Romeo. Registration number XEO 465R. No passengers. And a woman, driver
of an Astra Merit estate. Registration number, Geo 763H. Infant in car
seat to rear. Head on collision. All casualties killed instantly on
impact. No Rush Joe, these poor sods aren't going anywhere."
He looked at the skid marks slashing through the white letters on the
road.

SLOW.