Breakdown

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Abstract

ing over, changing a tire. Opposite a dried-up lake. In the middle of nowhere.No doubt his boss would be frantically trying to call him, wondering why he hadn’t come to work. Perhaps Ashley had sent a flirty text about looking forward to their date tonight. But Damian had no desire to talk to anyone. His phone had been violently turned off a few hours ago. Damian had woken up this morning, fresh with plans and aspirations for the day. In a single instant, none of it mattered anymore.Dr. Koshti. The only doctor who gave 6 am appointments. Perfect timing–get it done early, then get on with your day. Damian vaguely remembered sitting down in his office this morning to discuss his scan results. Dr. Koshti said “just a cough, bit of infection” or something like that.Instead, Dr. Koshti had gravely said “most likely cancer”. Damian couldn’t remember much after that. Just the words. And the image of his CT scan lighting up with innumerable white, alien spots, like a Christmas tre

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e.Somehow, in his dazed state, Damian had made it out of the clinic to his car. He had driven the familiar route to work, but then his body just kept driving onward. Past the turnoff to Ashley’s house. Past the turnoff to home. Past the city border sign. He just kept going. He did not know where or why. As long as he kept driving, he didn’t have to think.But now, on the side of the road, a maelstrom of thoughts and emotions was rushing back, tearing apart his calm and sanity. The tire changed, Damian sat by the car on the side of the highway and cried. Cried about how utterly stupid and pointless everything was. All dreams and aspirations cast to the wayside like dirty laundry.He did not know how long he sat there, by the side of the highway. Eventually, though, he dragged himself up and sat in the driver’s seat again, and pulled out into the road again. He still did not know where he was going. He just followed the winding road to wherever it took him.</article></body>

One minute everything’s fine…

The rear tyre went flat just as Damien was passing Lake George. He pulled over and just sat in the driver’s seat. A few moments ago he’d been roaring down the highway, windows down, air rushing past him. All of which numbed the pain, which was now rushing back.

Sitting still was the enemy. Damian’s panacea was to keep busy. He eventually opened the door and walked around to get the spare tyre. To all who drove past, it was a curious sight–a tall, young man dressed in a clean white shirt, black trousers, and dark red tie held impeccably in place by a golden tie pin, who was bending over, changing a tire. Opposite a dried-up lake. In the middle of nowhere.

No doubt his boss would be frantically trying to call him, wondering why he hadn’t come to work. Perhaps Ashley had sent a flirty text about looking forward to their date tonight. But Damian had no desire to talk to anyone. His phone had been violently turned off a few hours ago. Damian had woken up this morning, fresh with plans and aspirations for the day. In a single instant, none of it mattered anymore.

Dr. Koshti. The only doctor who gave 6 am appointments. Perfect timing–get it done early, then get on with your day. Damian vaguely remembered sitting down in his office this morning to discuss his scan results. Dr. Koshti said “just a cough, bit of infection” or something like that.

Instead, Dr. Koshti had gravely said “most likely cancer”. Damian couldn’t remember much after that. Just the words. And the image of his CT scan lighting up with innumerable white, alien spots, like a Christmas tree.

Somehow, in his dazed state, Damian had made it out of the clinic to his car. He had driven the familiar route to work, but then his body just kept driving onward. Past the turnoff to Ashley’s house. Past the turnoff to home. Past the city border sign. He just kept going. He did not know where or why. As long as he kept driving, he didn’t have to think.

But now, on the side of the road, a maelstrom of thoughts and emotions was rushing back, tearing apart his calm and sanity. The tire changed, Damian sat by the car on the side of the highway and cried. Cried about how utterly stupid and pointless everything was. All dreams and aspirations cast to the wayside like dirty laundry.

He did not know how long he sat there, by the side of the highway. Eventually, though, he dragged himself up and sat in the driver’s seat again, and pulled out into the road again. He still did not know where he was going. He just followed the winding road to wherever it took him.