Jason Creed
Doughnut
My dad was driving us home
from a holiday in Belgium,
and we passed by
just after it happened.
Having come off the moped,
her legs, short socks and sandals
were poking out of the blanket
which covered her body and head.
It had been raining,
the road was shiny and wet,
and a thick paint-like stream of red
flowed down to the gutter.
My mum told me not to look,
but I saw her
and the group of shook-up witnesses nearby.
I was eating a doughnut at the time.
Page(s) 15
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