A car comes to an abrupt halt below a cathedral’s sun-bleached towers.
Blue lights flash and sirens wail, cutting a discordant note through the urban hubbub.
I’m confronted by this cardiac arrest when I see the driver stricken on the cold tarmac.
His feet touch the wrenched front tyre; his maroon shirt ripped open by paramedics.
Kneeling, as if in prayer, they try to save him.
Onlookers, jolted from their routine, congregate… filling the awkward silence with well-meaning murmurs.
Clutching her handbag like flotsam salvaged from happier times, his frail wife struggles to cope with the emotional tsunami that has engulfed her with such terrifying force.
I too am left reeling in its wake, acutely aware life is fragile and liable to break.
Like an intruder, I skulk away, feeling helpless.
Last night I learned that a former teacher had passed away. His death reminded me that life is a thin thread liable to break at any time and that’s why we should live each day as if it’s our last to make the most of this precious gift.