The Meadow Annual Literary Arts Journal 2018

Corporation can kill you, they have to do it in the best, most humane possible way we know.” “Damn it!” He lay against the horn, pressing into it for full twenty seconds before lifting his head in time to hear a barrage of honks and ‘fuck-you’s in return. Xavier went on driving through a highway until suddenly the traffic came to a stop. Randomly, he tuned the radio, skip - ping the voices, commercials, and shows until he heard some music that was as if a sigh has been stuck in the cavernous zone between his lungs and throat. He listened and imagined a violin and a double bass, whose sounds wafted from the strings into the musicians’ noses. He pictured a breeze carried by the music, fluttering his lungs and allowing for a slow yet satisfying, hissing release… until an ambulance siren and a dog barking brought him back to the moment with his foot on the brake. The music returned, this time louder and steady and the air inside bounced against his ribcage, leaving his heart bumping like an overweight donkey panting, panting. If death could be something that beautiful , he thought. He wished that his veins would turn into violin strings, vibrating until his heart exploded. A moment of silence and the radio announcer said, “Gustav Mahler, Adagietto from 5 th Symphony.” His lane started to move faster. He glanced to his right. Any exit would do, he thought. The image of his mother came to mind. Her mouth opening to vomit dark, fetid blood. Not even his hands pressed against his ears had been able to prevent him from hearing her cries, the rattling metallic bed, and the crack of her chest at the moment the paramedics inserted a tube. Fifteen years ago, she had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer as well. Beep. Beep. Beep. It was the phone on the dashboard in front of him. If he died in that moment, his soul would be sucked into honks, the sirens, the cars hissing on the pavement, his cell- 104 The Meadow