I always take this bend in the road carefully.
The dirty grey, plastic wrappers flap from the new lamppost like flags at a Grand Prix.
I slow down even more, as if instructed to by the marshals.
Eyes, on the fading photograph, follow me as I drive past.
Every time I see this roadside memorial, there is a fleeting feeling of grief: A second, where I experience empathy with the family that refreshes those flowers every month.
I then accelerate away and forget about it, until the next time, when I will again drive past very carefully and feel sorry for the driver and those affected.
Published: Five Minute Stories
