Read Online The Most Uncommon Cold I - Life in the Time of Zombies by Jeffrey Littorno - Free Book Online

to silence the thought.
         Despite the overhead fluorescent tubes of light, the garage appeared muted.  All of the cars cast in the sort of gloomy rays of dusk.  As I had noted earlier, the place was surprisingly full so early on a weekday evening. I was suddenly intrigued by the number of foreign cars in the garage.  Admittedly, this was merely a distraction from the growing sense of dread that had snuck inside me.
         I rounded the corner of the last row to see Bonnie ’s car stoically looking back at me from its parking space.  It was not the punch of surprise that knocked the air out of me.  It was the forceful clench of having my fear confirmed which forced breath between my lips and made me gasp for more air. I stood right there in the cold garage and stared at Bonnie’s car. 
         For just an instant, the idea that Bonnie might be okay even though her car was still here floated by.  Before the idea had a chance to plant itself in my head, I angrily brushed it away.
         “She is not okay!”  I shouted inside my head.  “There is no sense pretending that she is!” 
         I continued to stand there gazing at the red Mustang.
         Somewhere I had heard the idea that you should leave home every day as if it would be the last time to see loved ones.  I had never given the notion much thought beyond its greeting card sentimentality. However, now I was overcome with emotion as I thought back not only on what I had said the last time I saw Bonnie but also of the things I had said and done over the last year. 
         According to her, the trouble between us had started long before that afternoon when I came home to find her with Ron Thomas, the principal of her school.  They were not in bed but were obviously headed in that direction.  Bonnie wanted me to believe that they were just having a drink and talking about school.  However, I reminded her I was a reporter and had some experience with recognizing reality.  Although she never admitted that she had any sort of relationship with Thomas, the incident became a signal for just how far apart we had grown.  I thought how disagreeable I had been.  Rather than facing the deeper problems in our marriage, rather than making an attempt to improve our relationship, rather than doing something productive, I continuously brought up that afternoon as a way of punishing Bonnie and blaming her for every problem we had.  Now it all seemed so stupid, but that did not change anything.
         I walked slowly to the car as if it was some sacred monument. As ridiculous as it sounds, I was sort of in awe of this thing that had belonged to Bonnie. It was the final connection to my wife. I am not sure exactly when I started crying, but suddenly I felt the warm moisture of tears on my face.  I reached up to brush the tears away, and the action brought me back to the reality of the garage and the red Toyota a few yards away from me.
         As I got closer, I saw a wide, dark puddle of what at first looked like oil on the floor beside the car.  I squatted next to the pool and touched it with my index finger.  The liquid was warm .  I drew my finger back and looked closely at it.  All at once, the realization of what it was hit me solidly.  The fluid was clearly blood, and there was a whole lot of it on the floor.  I looked around but saw no source.  I stepped around the puddle and tried to make sense of what I saw.  There seemed to be no sign of how the blood ended up in this spot.  I looked at the puddle of blood up close, and it occurred to me that I was not seeing something.  Then I realized that the puddle extended to the area beneath the car. I knelt down and peered under the Toyota. 
         I could see the gleam of light reflected off of the blood even under the car.  I also caught the shape of some small shape on the floor just on the other side of the car.  I stood slowly not entirely certain that I wanted to