Bad Day

It was too good to be true... I was feeling better, not crying throughout the day. We pulled into the port here in Los Angeles, where there were 3 trucks already sitting. Beside us on our left, sat Charlie's truck. I didn't realize it at first, as our own truck was blocking the view of the truck number. I always look. When I walked around to the drivers side from the back of our truck, Mike says to me "We outta see if that guy wants $20 for his step." (Charlie had our shop weld a step onto the top cover of his APU unit, which is under the passenger side door. I always told Charlie I wanted it.) I gave Mike a puzzled look. "You didn't see what truck it was, did you? It's Charlie's truck.." A wave of sickness came over me and settled in my stomache. I turned and looked. I almost hate myself for the gory images I made my mind envision. The things that happened just feet away from where I was standing. Each time I walked by the cab of his truck, I looked at the bunk. Knowing that his life ended.. right.. THERE... Ok, I have to stop now.