Misfortune

The misfortune. The white sheet moved gently in the summer breeze, under it a still body we could see his motorbike boots. The police had done their measuring up stuff, waited for the ambulance crew to take the body away. It had been such a splendid summer forenoon, but now cars drove slowly by the accident scene, like a funeral procession, we are so fascinated by unexpected death. And now someone had to knock on a door, these things can´t be done by a mobile call, and tell his mother that the light of her life had been extinguished.