Placing things for comparison or contrastI checked out of my hotel room and drove home, navigating the drama associated with a two-car shunt on the southern motorway. A police officer waved me through the broken plastic and glass debris on the asphalt, exhaustion and veiled temper in his eyes. I gripped the steering wheel in white-knuckled fingers as I crunched my truck tyres over someone else’s ruined Friday. Images of broken bodies wrapped in camouflage filled my mind’s eye. Exploded flesh replaced the shards of red reflector and I blew out puffs of strained breath, which made my chest muscles ache. “One hundred and four, one hundred and five.” I named the numbers aloud to dull the shouts of pain and anguish leaking from my memories.
Turning right onto the back road to my house allowed
