So, here it is. Are you watching??
The windshield wipers moved back and forth furiously as I waited in the left hand turn lane for an opening. The light was still green, stale red for the cross street.
Green means go, but apparently not everyone knew that red meant stop.
I heard the squealing of the tires against the wet pavement as they grabbed for some friction to stop on the water filled road. I saw in my peripheral as a work van flew over the white line before the crunching of metal filled my ears.