|
November 25, 1999
The Sky Is Falling
Three times now, in my life, I have almost met with
serious injury - or worse - from objects falling from above. When you're hit by something head-on, you see it coming...you can brace yourself for impact. When something hits you from behind, it's a complete surprise, but the back is built to be strong
(porbably for just that reason). When you're hit from the side, there's usually at least some sort of peripheral warning sign that can somewhat prepare you. But when things come from above.....well, suffice it to say, I can see what all the fuss was
about with Chicken Little.
The first time that I can recall a near-miss from the sky was while I was driving with my husband. It was dusk. The streetlights were just starting to twinkle on. The traffic was fairly sparse. Suddenly, right in front
of the car, a streetlamp let go of its glass housing and it crashed to the pavement. Two seconds later and it would have come straight through the windshield. Gave new meaning to "shedding some light on the subject".
The second time was about 3
years ago. I had a large (heavy) silk plant on the shelf directly above my bed. Cat-boy used to jump up on the shelf during the night and sleep above me (lookout that he is). One particular night he must have been sprawling especially wide and he knocked
the plant down onto the bed. It missed my head by inches. I calculated that the plant weighed about 5 pounds. This weight, dropping from approximately 4 feet above my head.....well, it wouldn't have been pretty.
The plant got moved.
Third
time. Today. This was a really close one. I was standing in the kitchen this morning, sipping a freshly poured cup of coffee. Cat-boy was perched on the portable dishwasher in the centre of the room. The light fixture, directly above the dishwasher,
shook loose from the ceiling and smashed to the floor, hitting the corner of the dishwasher on the way down. The glass globe exploded on impact, sending shards of glass everywhere. It barely grazed me as it sped by. Rem escaped injury by a whisker.
The two of us just stood there and stared at the mess on the floor in disbelief. We looked from the floor to each other, then to the floor again.
He spoke first.
"Meow!"
No shit, Rem.
Home
Back
Ahead
|
|
|
