Friday, June 12, 2009

At 1am this morning.

At 1am this morning it was cold. Moonlight gave a silvery colour to the coldness, highlighting the crispness of the air.

At 1am this morning I was coccooned in my bed enjoying the warmth of my doona. My children slept soundly and safely in their warm beds in their nearby rooms. All was well in my world.

At 1am this morning, Niel, a 16 year old friend of Zinni's stepped out of the cold shadows of the highway verge into the bright lights of a semi trailer. Its driver was gunning the engine as he left the slower speed of town and began a stretch bordered only by farmland.

At 1am this morning a teenage boy ended the pain he felt inside. The pain no-one saw. The pain masked by a happy go lucky attitude and ready smile.

At 1am this morning a middle aged truck driver slammed into a nightmare that will haunt all his waking moments. A nightmare he could not avoid. A nightmare he had no chance to influence.

At 1am this morning a mother and a father went into shock that will encase them in their early steps of gut wrenching grief that will be with them, leering over their every breath as long as they have breath.

At 1am this morning this world proved yet again that it is a world gone wrong.


  1. Oh how sad! How very sad. I wish we had radar to spot such hidden pain before it's too late.

  2. Oh no! Hugs all 'round. That is far too young to feel so helpless and hopeless.

  3. Ohhh, Maisy. I am so sorry, so terribly sorry. My prayers for the boy's family, and for yours as well.

    -- Alicia, wishing you a measure of peace today

    btw ... this piece is beautifully written, so eloquent and powerful

  4. Wow. There are really no words (and no way to properly follow your eloquent eulogy).

    I shall simply send (((hugs))).