A Car Crash & And A Wake

He laid there, crushed beneath two large tires. His face, nestled between two large tires and the rocky asphalt long weathered by the harsh climate. His face, fully visible from my position in the car, held a gaze of disbelief. I wondered how a face could retain such a look. His eye sockets the color of burnt sugar, transfixed into the beyond, but his eyebrows bunched over the empty holes where his eyes should have been. His eyes were now gone from their sockets, likely crushed in the debris of a bus and a very large car. His open wounds, the color of cataracts, split open at his right knee and arm, his body positioned as if climbing a wall, or as if trying to claw his way out of his burnt plastic-asphalt prison.
As we past his body I wondered if I had mistaken the startled look on his face for that of agony. The synapses in my head were creating new connections that never before had been realized. Never seeing a body in such a condition, it was difficult to comprehend the situation. Upon the last electrical ¨snap¨ I pieced my final thoughts: he was alive under those tires, trying to escape, the world gone black for he had lost his eyes, his higher cognitive center of his brain crushed under plastic and asphalt, and giving way only the primitive center, clinging for life, reacting, possessing…and ultimately, dying.

Thus was the scene of the body I saw in the capital of San Miguel. It was to be the 1st of two bodies that night.

The death of an important delegate occurred the night before, a Diputado, the duty of which I am still unsure of, but have heard to be compared to a state representative. After the accident, we went to the wake, located within the military instillation of the capital of the Department of San Miguel, I entered with my Alcalde (mayor), my counterpart and our driver. The compound was filled with important people, none of which I recognized. My mayor shook hands with most of them, I stayed behind with the driver, feeling a bit uncomfortable.
Within the main hall laid the body of the Col. Bennett. Protected by two guards, one held deathly still, and the other teetered forward and back. Flanked on either side of the guards was a botanical garden of offerings. In the center lay the mahogany casing of Col. Bennett. His casket was far too big for his small frail body, and seemed to have an extra coast of gloss. I was surprised that the mantel and sword did not slide off during the procession. I wondered if people thought the same and chose to hold their breath while they viewed the body. I know I did.
We stayed for but a short time. We went to supermarket right after. It was just another day at the office.