It was just another winter morning.
She had an unhurried breakfast
and walked into the traffic.

She spun and fell
when the first car hit.
The car that followed
could not stop fast enough
for her not to be squelched.
A mess of flesh and blood,
she became elementally
what she'd recently
longed to be.

Incomprehension was the
larger reaction
until they found on her reading desk
a musty copy of
The Brothers Karamazov,
pagemarked where the conversation
between Ivan and Alyosha begins.