I've turned up the heating because my freezing limbs are overtired and I had eaten little. I was one of the last suits to leave the event. In my briefcase, smelling of men's perfume, the deposit slips and signatures. The initiated guests had clapped and hoorayed like silly, the uninitiated had wondered, some sceptic, others curios. Like every time at these gatherings. The job was to bring them in. Appelt's charismatic speech has become a stoic repetition. How did Appelt manage to look like a fresh breeze up there on stage, every single time?
The warmth makes me all too comfortable in the leather driver's seat and I have trouble staying awake behind the wheel. The ride is monotonous.
At half past two in the night, there is hardly any business on the roads. In a deserted village, the traffic light turns red. Really?! After stopping briefly to see if any other vehicles cross the lane, I speed up. Car obeys nicely. It momentarily gives me a sense of unreality, just like a flash of guilt, which I immediately drown out with a laugh. What a lawbreaker I am!
On the highway, things get even worse. At over a hundred kilometers per hour and driving only straight ahead, I find myself closing my eyes, amazed and more than irritated with myself for continuing to drive even though it could end with me at any time.
The inner struggle, however, wants to go on. ... Why don't I drive off and look for a parking space? But even for that I am just too tired, as crazy as it feels. I chuckle, a dazed man, from my own thoughts, for sure a stupid grin on my face.
Well, I'll be! I must have fallen asleep again, my vehicle already almost touching the guardrail, I quickly correct the course. I find myself strange, because I hardly take my foot off the gas. I tear my eyes wide open, just like my mouth, imagining I have frog eyes and my face is as felxible as chewing gum. That helps. For about two seconds. Oncoming vehicles blind me. I inwardly salute the nocturnal drivers who get another quarter of a second out of it with their lights.
"Stay awake," I command, muttering it to myself. "Stay awake stay awake stay awake stayawake stayawake awakesaywake ...." This turns into a beautiful melody I can hear in my mind "Sail away, sail away, sail away ... "
I am delighted, feels good. My eyes fall shut.
I feel a strong bump or not? Strange! I am back to the traffic lights again. Talk about monotony. And the lights are still red! Do these lights ever turn green at some point?
I furrow my brows and squint hard through the windshield, to check if there are oncoming vehicles. I am sure I did this like a few seconds ago —sped past this lane. Déjà vu?
I shake my head at myself. I must be hallucinating or something. Mentally ready to add some extra pressure on the gas pad, a slim, haggard-looking blond lady jumps out of the woods by the roadside into the middle of the lane.
"Sh**t!" All thoughts and desire to sleep fled. Reflexively, I swerve and barely miss hitting her. Tyres screeching to a halt by the roadside, I push open my door and jump out to confront her.
The haggard lady runs to me. Her teary eyes are smeared with mascara, her white flimsy gown, old and worn out. She looks pale and her almost translucent eyes, droopy and very sad. "Help me! My husband is dying. He's in there." She points towards the woods. I debate whether to help her or not. Her sad eyes convince me.
A quick glance at my car and I blink in rapid succession. I see the hood and bumper are crushed, smoke filtering out of it. The windscreen shattered into tiny pieces. The taillights blinking, flashes of light in the dark woods. This is confusing. My precious car. When and how did this happen?
I turn to look at the haggard woman. She is walking into the woods already, sobbing and sniffing. I run after her. "Madam, is he hurt? What happened?" I ask but the sound of her sobs come back to me instead of a response.
After walking a while in the woods with her and no husband in sight, I am uncomfortable. This eerie feeling like something is not right. I stop walking. "Look lady, I asked you a question. Where is your husband?"
She turns to look at me. I see the sorrow in her eyes. "There." She points to a space behind a tree. I move closer towards the direction she pointed at and froze on the spot. The scene before me raise the hairs on my nape. Tiny pins prick me all over.
Right behind the tree is me or more appropriately, my body! Laying down in a twisted form on the ground. My shirt is soaked in blood, left side of my face bleeding, one of my legs painfully and terribly bent from the knee.
Two men, they look like truck drivers, stand beside me, staring down. "What do we do?" One of them, the older from the thining gray hairs on his temple, ask.
The other man scowl at him. "Why yer ask me? Told yer to put the bottle of whiskey away 'til we get to town so yer dinna look hammered. Did yer listen? No!"
"This is bad man!" The old man says staring directly at my twisted leg. "He looks dead and gone. C'mon, help me. Let's dig up a hole and hide him. I don't wanna go to the jail for this."
"No!" I exclaim and turn to talk to the haggard-looking lady but she is no more beside me. I look from one man to the other. These men are deciding how best to hide my body.
"You git! Either way we gonna go to gaol fer this."
Everything is coming back to me now. I was driving and must have fallen asleep. Such sweet, deep sleep. Now I am here. Where's here? I glance around. Then I hear it —a distant voice, singing somewhere in my head I think, "sail away, sail away, sail away, sail away…"
The two men pull my body by my hands, dragging me deeper into the woods. I am helpless and lost. Forever?
Thank you 
Image from Canva's gallery