{"id":1373,"date":"2011-12-29T18:42:14","date_gmt":"2011-12-29T18:42:14","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/?p=1373"},"modified":"2012-01-16T00:41:33","modified_gmt":"2012-01-16T00:41:33","slug":"no-beauty-hovered-over-me-by-jim-piper","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/no-beauty-hovered-over-me-by-jim-piper\/","title":{"rendered":"No Beauty Hovered Over Me by Jim Piper"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a><\/h1>\n

No Beauty Hovered Over Me<\/h1>\n

?by Jim Piper<\/p>\n

I was texting Maria when I ran splat into a woman in a crosswalk. Saw her a flash by my window, a hunk of fabric flapping. Cars stopped. I stopped. I just sat.<\/p>\n

A face appeared in my window.<\/p>\n

?Trying to text ? ? I muttered. ?Call 911,? I said. Could you call 911? How is she??<\/p>\n

I got out of my car and glanced at the people kneeling some distance away. I had bounced her back over my car. How could you run into someone and knock her through the air behind your car? In a crosswalk where she was legal?<\/p>\n

More cars had stopped. I didn?t know where my phone was. Someone came to me, a woman, I think. ?Why didn?t you stop for the woman?? she asked me. ?Look at her.? Cars had stopped. I couldn?t see her for all the people kneeling to her in the street. A man with big hands grabbed me by the shoulders. ?Texting? Texting? Texting who??<\/p>\n

I couldn?t remember.<\/p>\n

Sirens.<\/p>\n

They shouted,? ?You, you dumb shit, you selfish iPhone fuck.?<\/p>\n

More hands under my shoulders. Lifted and pushed along to a black and white cruiser. ?Your keys,? one of the khaki-clothed voices demanded of me.<\/p>\n

?What keys??<\/p>\n

?We are impounding your car.? the cop said. ?So give me your keys.? He pushed me into the backseat of the cruiser.<\/p>\n

So she died there in the street, with strangers kneeling to her.<\/p>\n

I lived a simple, humane life, always stopping for people in crosswalks, opening doors for people on walkers. I asked the bailiff what I should do. ?Is it true you get only one phone call in a situation like this?? I asked her.<\/p>\n

The bailiff was a large bored woman with unnaturally fluffy hair, dressed in a pink institutional shirtwaist. I imagined she dealt with manslaughterers six a day. Womandispatchers. Routine stuff. Jaded.<\/p>\n

?One call,? she said.<\/p>\n

I called Marie but she did not pick up.<\/p>\n

I asked the attendant in pink if I had used up my one call if the person I called did not pick up.<\/p>\n

?Yes. You used it up. You do not get any more calls. You get only one call.??I had a minor in psychology from a good trade school. Maybe the person I had killed was a nun, a good candidate for sainthood, an advocate for the downtrodden, a great artist with power to transform the world for the better.<\/p>\n

A jailer showed up and led me jerking and shoving down a dark hall.<\/p>\n

?Do I still get a phone call?? I asked him.<\/p>\n

?Haven?t you phoned yet??<\/p>\n

?Yes, but the person did not pick up.?<\/p>\n

?I?m sorry.?<\/p>\n

I was slammed into a cell about 6 by 9.<\/p>\n

All I could think about was the improbable physics of hitting a person in a crosswalk at 35 miles per hour: How could she end up flying over<\/em> my car and behind<\/em> it?<\/p>\n

###<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

No Beauty Hovered Over Me ?by Jim Piper I was texting Maria when I ran splat into a woman in a crosswalk. Saw her a flash by my window, a hunk of fabric flapping. Cars stopped. I stopped. I just sat. A face appeared in my window. ?Trying to text ? ? I muttered. ?Call…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_bbp_topic_count":0,"_bbp_reply_count":0,"_bbp_total_topic_count":0,"_bbp_total_reply_count":0,"_bbp_voice_count":0,"_bbp_anonymous_reply_count":0,"_bbp_topic_count_hidden":0,"_bbp_reply_count_hidden":0,"_bbp_forum_subforum_count":0,"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"_uf_show_specific_survey":0,"_uf_disable_surveys":false,"footnotes":"","_links_to":"","_links_to_target":""},"categories":[86],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1373","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-featured"],"aioseo_notices":[],"amp_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1373","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1373"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1373\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1389,"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1373\/revisions\/1389"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1373"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1373"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1373"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}