What happened that Tuesday

The worst part was the sound.

At the moment, I heard a car horn,the thud of impact, and the crunch of invincible steel. I felt the sudden off-beat twisting of my steering wheel, and the helplessness of the brakes, and the terror of the wheels as they slid. I saw the road and the cars swerving in blurs, and the landscape drifting out of control, and my body went numb when I realized that everything, all at once was too late.

But all I remember was the sound. It couldn't have been for more than a split second, the impact, and the moment before it. It was that instant I braced myself - and I heard it: that low, primal reaction that is more of a scientific absolute. It was the anti noise, the silence that only happens in chaos. It was the swing of the sword of Death. It does not growl like a beast, beasts vainly attempt to roar like it. It is the sound of the leopard's paws leaving the ground, and the abrasive in its bones as it pounces; it is the mechanical click of the trigger sparking the powder and the whir of the bullet spinning; it is the dripping of the oil and the and the cackle of the fire. Soldiers go insane from the ringing in their heads. Prey will hear it. It creeps on those who freeze, and traps those who drown. It is all that catches those who fall. It is what is felt instead of the knife blade. All will know, eventually, this: the Sound of Fear.