The Fading Green Man
I was distracted, the green man was fading as I stepped out into what was soon to be oncoming traffic.
I didn’t spot her coming, hurtling straight towards me, on top of me before I’d realised what had happened.
My instincts had kicked in. My arms stretched out, catching the elderly lady whose arms were flailing and whose head was most definitely heading over her heels.
“I’ve got you,” I said.
And I had.
She was exceptionally grateful.
Like I could have done anything other than to have caught her. I’d have literally had to have stepped out of the way to have missed her.
So I humbly accepted the gratitude, and we went our separate ways.
I wasn’t alone in believing that she’d have face-planted the road in a rather nasty and unfortunate way. I know this because the part of the street I was on breathed a collective sigh of relief. For a brief moment, the silent mundanity of life erupted into a chatter, “Well do.” Someone said, “good catch,” said another. “She was definitely going over.” Said someone else with conviction.
It was this that struck me about this brief but eventful moment. A shared experience triggered by a traumatic event that never was. You don’t come across those very often.