“850, come in. Come in, 850.”The call went out with no response. It was Saturday night, a New Year’s nightmare, roads icy and slick. 911 calls came every few minutes and the fire and rescue department was in alert.
District 2, truck 850, and first day as the driver. It was a dream come true for the young man. He was heading through the stop light, sirens, lights blaring, flashing, but it didn’t matter.
A drunk semi driver smashed into the truck causing it to sway, hitting the guardrail. The impact threw the drunk man free of the fatal crash.
The Bag Lady 
good writing. You really left me feeling a lot of grief for the senseless death of the young man. Hopes and dreams smashed at the hands of a drunk.
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Good use of the prompt. Unfortunately, too often true.
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