[here one day…]

[here one day…]

I heard a crash, sitting at the office.

I looked out of the window and couldn’t see anything but men walking nervously there and back again. There’s a restaurant on the second floor of our building, so I attributed the sound to them because through closed windows it sounded as if someone dropped a bunch of dishes.

No one besides me seemed to be interested in finding out what happened. I don’t know why I was so interested.

I went to meet with my hubby, his brother and brother’s girlfriend for lunch and walked past the place where I heard the crash.

A big maintenance truck was standing near the entryway into the inner courtyard. Metal gates stood nearby, crumpled like a fan made out of paper. Several people, along with an ambulance and police cars were there as well, all seemingly at loss.

“Probably just crashed into the gates. It happens.” I thought.

On my way back to the office from lunch, the situation near the archway didn’t change.

“Does anyone know what happened there?” I asked in our company’s Skype chat.

“A man was killed. Crushed by a truck that accidentally started moving backwards and the brakes didn’t work.”

That explained the blank looks of the people who stood near the place of the accident. What can you do when someone dies so unexpectedly?

I sent a message to Sam, telling him of the accident. We both fell silent for a bit, digesting the information.

You live.

You die.

Recently I have read a quote…

Human mortality is not something scary per se. What is scary how suddenly your time comes.

There was a man. Mid-thirties, working as a guard. Probably complained about the heat like we all do at the moment.

One moment. One truck.

A man is no more, sandwiched between a steel gate and a truck’s rear.

You live.

You die.

Carpe diem.

Don’t waste your time today.

Tell your loved ones that you love them – even if you have already done that.

Do your best at work today – because you’ve got time right now.

Look out of the window, inhale, slowly exhale – and marvel at the fact that you’re alive.

Carpe diem.

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