This -for once- will be non-Fiction.
It is something that actually happened. To me. And it has wrecked my brain for years.
This is me trying to write it all down so it makes sense.
Nothing has been made up, nothing has been added to make it a ‘better’ story, this is as factual as it can get.
To start off, there are two things you need to know.
- I’m an agnost. I’m not sure if there is a God, or God-like beings, but I don’t think there are. Either way, I can’t scientifically prove there isn’t, just like the believers can’t scientifically prove there is.
(I would highly recommend reading up on the Epicurean Paradox, it’s a doozy. This does a decent job of summing it all up.) - The Trousers of Time. A beautiful line once written by the legendary Sir Terry Pratchett (GNU), who referred to Time being a lady:
“Why did we talk about the Trousers of Time when she never wore them? No one wears them; they’re empty. It’s an image of a shape with one entrance and two exits. One may imagine falling continually into the waistband, not knowing from which leg one may emerge. So does history occur: in myriad, often unconsidered, minor decisions.”
Now that we’ve got all that sorted, let us continue with the real story.
Many, many years ago, I was on the road, driving my trusty ol’ Ford Ka to meet an old mate of mine. For privacy reasons I’m going to call him “Bob”, just because I can.
And because it’s fun to say “Bob”.
Bob lived a little ways away, maybe an hour drive or so, but that was fine. Bob and I went back a long time, and I enjoyed (and still enjoy) long-ish drives.
That really came in handy when I met my then-girlfriend, now-wife, who lived over 2,5 hours away.
I digress.
Allow me to continue.
Driving to Bob meant driving on a long stretch of two-lane road, next to a lake, lined with trees and bushes on both sides.
It was usually a quiet road, even though the speed limit was 80 km/h.
As luck would have it, the moment I turned onto that road, I was driving right behind a tractor.
You know the ones, with a heftily filled trailer attached to it, moving at a snail’s pace, probably not much faster than 35 km/h, and obscuring all and any view.
Usually I’d sigh, grit my teeth, quietly curse, turn up the music, and endure the half hour drive that should’ve been fifteen minutes.
That day, I didn’t.
That day, I decided that “Fuck this, I’ve barely seen any oncoming traffic, I’m outta here!”
That day, I swerved to the left to overtake the tractor.
That day, I drove straight into an oncoming truck.
That day, I think I died.
I had two, maybe three seconds to register what was happening, until the truck plowed into me.
A full-frontal collision.
In those few seconds, I heard the truck honk, I saw the SCANIA logo painted boldly in the middle of the red hood, I noticed the fear in the driver’s eyes, I felt the hard shock of the initial impact, and then I blacked out.
As I came to, I was driving at about 35 km/h behind the tractor.
My body was shaking, I was drenched in a cold sweat, and my heart was racing.
Unsure about what just happened, I shook my head, trying to gather my thoughts.
Moments later a red SCANIA truck drove by on the other lane.
I’m not entirely sure anymore, because it has been a while, but I think a bit of pee came out.
The moment I was able to pull over into one of the many viewing spots by the lake, I did.
I called Bob, told him I wasn’t feeling quite well, and that I’d pop by another day.
For an amount of time that I can’t remember, I just sat, staring at the lake, quietly mumbling “what the fuck” over and over to myself.
To this day, I still can’t explain what happened, or how it happened.
My best guess: I fell into the trousers of time, and witnessed another me slip through the other exit.
Otherwise I would have to call it Divine Intervention, and I’ll be damned if I do.
Thank you for reading this, and hopefully it’ll make more sense to you than it does to me.
Life lesson:
DO NOT ATTEMPT TO OVERTAKE WITHOUT A PROPER LINE OF SIGHT!
Thank you for coming to my TED-talk.