Time Can Go By So Quickly

It was a normal hiemal, Erie day. Chilly and bleak. Most people remained cooped up in their homes, covered in as many layers as possible while still being able to reach for their steaming drinks. Perhaps families were sitting down to watch some animated feature, or a mother was preparing dinner, or maybe a teenager was marveling at the notion that he got the house to himself all evening. On the other hand, there were those not engaging in such luxuries. Such people included my parents.
My parents were not lounging in their long johns or sipping hot cocoa. My dad was working outside on the farm and my mom was her way home from work. Anyone from that particular area could relate to the long laboring days on the farm. Rain or shine. Snow or not. This day was particularly unwelcoming.
Time can go by so slowly, don’t you think? Remember sitting in a class or at work and constantly checking the clock to see how long it has been since you last checked? Usually, it has only been minutes, but it feels like so much longer. Seconds feel like minutes. Minutes feel like hours. In contrast, time can seem to fly by. That’s a common phrase; time flies when you’re having fun. I also believe time flies when something bad happens. That night did not go by slowly. Maybe the working day had, but every minute after went by in a flash, in a blur. According to the witnesses anyway. It went by so quickly, as if previously rehearsed.
My dad, working outside. My mom, returning home from a long day at work. The time is approximately 4:30 p.m. A man is fleeing from a domestic dispute where he fired off a gun. Also, there is a runner. A man who, by some unlucky chance, decided to go for a run around a similar time, perhaps a little after 4:30 p.m. His parents don’t live that far from my house. He lives far far away, simply visiting for the oncoming holiday. Around roughly 5:00 p.m. the runner stopped running as the man fleeing from his argument drove past him and our house.
All my dad saw was a flying shoe. He doesn’t recall the actual car itself, just that one past by with great speed. Frustrated by the habitual reckless driving that occurred on our street he kicked the shoe that had landed near him. My mom drove up as if on cue. She says she was longing for the comfort of her own home after a long day at work. Feeling drained and exhausted, she simply wants the relief that comes when returning home. Instead of such a luxury, she sees an uneasy husband cautioning her from looking below the fence.
“What is it?” She asks, wary, not expecting the answer she gets.
“It’s a body.” He replied. Although, in the story I received only a day later, the shape did not at all resemble a body that we would be familiar with. The distortion was the cause of his initial confusion.
A police officer came to my parent’s home to interview them. The phrase that labeled them was, ‘first ones on the scene’ or ‘eye witnesses’. You have heard them before. On television. Maybe not in reality, for we often assume such tragedies cannot occur in our own lives. The officer also mentioned that the driver claimed he didn’t see the jogger and that the driver was intoxicated. The jogger had been wearing a neon hat.
The report reads similar to the following: When police arrived, they found the body of Jason Keener, 35, of Smyrna, Tennessee. Keener was pronounced dead at the scene. Police say Keener was struck by a vehicle while jogging.
Time can go by so quickly.


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