death in chicago

I finally picked a piece to read tomorrow night. Its short. Unless I begin to stammer, I should be able to get through it in four minutes.

So, Im trolling around the web, looking for interesting stuff to read while Linettes in the other room, still working diligently on her part for tomorrow night. I feel kind of guilty.

I also feel kind of sad at the moment. I just read this persons terrible firsthand account of finding a dying man in the street. I guess it happened over the weekend in Chicago. The woman was out with a friend, seeing a band, and then, on their way home, they saw this mans body. To make the story even more surreal, she had apparently seen him earlier in the evening, at the bar. He was a friendly-looking young fellow and she handed him a cookie I guess he must have left just a few minutes before her.

It was a hit-and-run. And he was dead by the time the ambulance got there.

To make things even more surreal, someone else has filled their Chicago blog with photos and stories about this young man. Seeing what he looks like after having read the previous account really makes the reality of it set in. Its all making me very sad.

And its weird how all of these pieces come together on the internet to create a complete story. Theres someone who didnt even know this mans name on one page writing about finding his body, and then, on another site, theres a community of friends coming together to comfort one another. Its eerie… and kind of beautiful at the same time.

Now Im sitting here wondering how close this guy and I might have been to one another. Im wondering if I might have passed him in a crowd the last time I was in Chicago. Im wondering if any of my friends there might have known him. Im wondering if he might have ever read one of my stories while passing time at Quimbys.

It makes me feel fortunate to be alive.

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