March 29th, 2022

This fucking pothole.

Normally I would ask you to excuse my language, but then again, you don’t know this pothole.

You can’t see it?

I can still feel it.

Week after week, I would fearfully drive past this very spot; here lived the deepest, most gnarly pothole I had ever set my eyes upon.

And on each occasion, I would carefully find my way around it.

On one Tuesday, there was a generous rainstorm. It was only a moment, that’s all it took, but I forgot about the pothole; the rain had filled it and made it look like the rest of the road.

My car fell into it and I swear we touched the top of Hell. My entire vehicle shook, sending violent vibrations through my body that resonated in my soul.

I said many bad words.

No matter how many times I drove around it after that, I still felt it; the incident had an echo that made my stomach drop.

Maybe a month later, they fixed the pothole. I can actually drive over the place it used to be.

And every time I do, I feel it a little less.

But there’s a part of me that knows that I won’t ever feel nothing at all.

Published by dennisvogen

I'm me, of course. Or am I?

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