Scott L. Vanatter Opening Time seemed to stand still. A woman drove her car through a red light, crashing into Becky’s side of our Volvo. We had a green light all the way. I was driving. Our car flipped over, then spun around and around crossing two lanes of opposing traffic. The sun roof popped off. Windows shattered and glass spread throughout the car, and our hair, and our clothes, and our pockets like a shower of hot water. After the car stopped spinning, it was resting upside down on its roof on the curb on the opposite side of the street, a twisted pile of metal, broken glass, and dripping engine fluids. Then, my dear sweet young unconscious wife, seven months pregnant with our second daughter, suddenly went into massive and violent seizures. Blood seemed to be coming from everywhere. After what seemed an eternity, but which probably only lasted for about a minute, her seizures violently stopped. Then it was perfect stillness and absolute silence. In that moment it appear
Scott Vanatter