Microstory 220: Bad Thoughts (Part V)

This is a microstory. You'll have to read it to find out what it's about.

I refuse to move from my triangle of safety, even as the other drivers beg me to. I say that I want to wait for the authorities to arrive, but the truth is that I just can’t move. Literally, I’m paralyzed. I instruct my legs to bend at the knees, and for my hands to brace myself on the hood of the little red sedan while I twist over and slide to the ground. Nothing. I look down the street, over the sedan, and witness a bus crash into a tow truck. It’s an odd coincidence, but not enough to shock me out of my ongoing fear. I turn my head and see another car on fire, down behind the black truck. Holy crap, this can’t be a coincidence! This is fate! Someone upstairs is upset with me, for whatever reason, and is piling on the bad luck. I look through the windows of the white cargo van to see a police cruiser rear-end the car ahead of him. Okay, now I know something is seriously wrong with reality. That would never happen. Cops are too careful. I’m the cause of this all, and I have to figure out how to get out of it. The cop then rams his cruiser into the back of the van, and continues to push forward, trying to get at me. The tow truck driver comes up and swings his machinery against the sedan like a wrecking ball, hoping each time that it knocks me over the head. The car that’s already on fire drivers around us in circles, setting off minor but continuous explosions from all the other vehicles. I shut my eyes and concentrate, then I turn the ignition in my own car. I back out of the garage and head for the store to buy chocolate. No walking for me, not today. I never know if my premonitions are real, because I always work to subvert them. Better safe than sorry. I’ll start exercising tomorrow. I promise.