As Amber wRight's alarm clock begins to create uncontrolled chaos, she rolls out of bed and lands on her back. She stares at her popcorn style, brilliant white, ceiling with the simple idea that she definitely needed more sleep than she received.
After some self-motivation, she slowly stands up and heads to her bathroom. As she was horizontal on the floor, in what she calls a meditative state, she decided to bum it today and just put on a sweat suit. She ties her hair in a semi pony tail, throws on some running shoes, and darts out the door.
Driving isn't exactly her strong suit. She multi-tasks on way too many occasions. People constantly joke with her about her driving, but it never bothers her, because she knows the jokes are justified. Today, she decides that light pink colored lip gloss will be applied while driving. She glances one second in the rear view mirror and another at the road. While she tries to juggle these activities, she doesn't notice that the truck in front of her is slowing down and attempting to turn Left into the gas station. Without hesitation, the energy from the wreck is transferred through out her car, completely destroying her hood and bumper.
She stays in the car for a while, trying to collect her thoughts, because this wreck was not like the others that she was involved in. All the others were mostly scraps and finder binders.
Suddenly, someone knocks on her window, which startles her back to reality.
"Are you ok!? Can I open your car door?"
She nods, and when the door opens, all she can smell is smoke from the recent car accident. The fellow that opened the car, she noticed, was looking at her with a very interesting look. One second, it seemed as if he was worried about her, and the next it was almost like he was, in a way, laughing at her.
"WHY are you looking at me like that!?" she asks, with a slight crackle in her voice from not fully recovering from the wreck.
With a chuckle or two and a smile, he responses "Go to the bathroom and look at your face."
As she storms off to the restroom, the guy that she hit and the flannel wearing gas attendant push her car into the gas station's parking lot so the soon arriving police could write out the report. Left heads inside, because he has a unusual dislike of cops and anything and everything that resembles one.
Amber gets to the bathroom and as she looks into the mirror, she begins to laugh. She has the pink lip gloss all over her face. She quickly cleans the marks off, and heads back out to the parking lot to sign the police report. As she walks through the gas station, she notices his name tag, "Left". She now wonders what kind of a parent would name there child, "Left". A horrible name, she thinks. As she walks out the door, they both smile at each other because of the war paint that was previously on her face.
Amber quickly signs the police report, and because her car is completely undriveable, not to mention the combination of the 31 degree January weather and gusts of wind, she heads back into the small gas station to wait for a ride.
"Left"....a horrible name..
