Art leaned on his crutches while fumbling in his pocket for the key to his single story house. Behind him a pair of headlights turned onto the street that dead ended at his front lawn. He withdrew the keys but they slipped out of his grip, landing at his feet. The headlights were closing in fast as he bent over, supporting himself between the door and a crutch. Art nearly fell over as a ground shaking boom vibrated around him. Balanced on one leg, he retrieved the keys. Dazed and shaken, he opened the door. A silver Toyota Camry was now parked decidedly on top of his sofa in the living room.
“Am I home yet?” blinked a disoriented blond woman as she climbed out of the car, dust and debris settling around her. I should’ve stayed in bed today, Art thought. He slipped and broke his leg this morning on a patch of black ice in the driveway while leaving for work. He just wanted to get home and rest since leaving the hospital after his cast was set.
Lord, it can’t get much worse. “No, but since you’re not going anywhere soon, perhaps I could interest you in a beer,” he said, as he hobbled over to the virtually intact kitchen. “It’s been a helluva day!”
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