perfidy

Awhile back I toyed with the idea of regular posts alerting our reading public about the kooky junk I saw on a regular basis on my way to work.

I never did, because 1, it would have meant regular posting which I am not against, mind you, but am basically incapable of; and 2, I left the job to which I commuted, which took me over the sketchiest bits of Crackton and was the source of the enterprise in the first place. All kinds of stuff the poor, miserable, or spiteful threw from passing cars wound up on that little spur off the interstate except the kitchen sink. The bathroom sink however was a victim, still sitting in a busted up vanity on the side of the highway, long dead and just waiting for porcelain-eating vultures to start in on the carcass.

Anyway, I still have alot of highway driving for my new gig, but none of it cuts through the city. Although my new commute does take me through some nasty streets of Little Newark, I'm too focused on not getting carjacked to notice much else.

So, the other day I did see something on the highway I'd never seen before: the most grisly roadkill ever.

To be sure I have seen the gruesome remains of prior victims of the critter-bumper interface. One time in particular, out in the leafier parts of the state, I came upon the aftermath of a moose that had been thoroughly killed by a big tour bus coming back from a casino. Oh-dark-thirty, middle of nowhere on a dark stretch of interstate and whammo. Now, what I saw that time was very messy indeed, but the body was long removed and all that remained was a gory swath in the road and bit of busted headlight and bumper on the median. The rest was left to the imagination.

But what I saw last week was still...eh, fresh.

I was tooling along when suddenly the traffic started thickening up in a place and at a time when it never does. That is, the mouthbreathing fuckwits who usually do mess up everybody's commute by rear-ending each other or catching their cars on fire typically do it closer to the city proper. This was still in suburb terrain. After many miles of stop and go, it turned out that everyone was slowing to go around the...scene.

I *think* it was a deer.

What I saw was...ok, I've poked around my thesaurus and racked my brain for a better choice of words, but I just come back to "pile".

It was a big pile of deep red glop, with a single tawny leg stiffly sticking out of it.

And that's it.

Whichever of Deity's wonders that animal had been the night before, by that morning it had been reduced to its basic components and left in a heap. It was almost as if a petulant child-God had started to create a lifeform and had begun monkeying around with some parts, but then got bored and went out to round up some of his God chums to find something more fun to do, like inspiring mortals to wage wars in their names, and have a good solid holy yuk at it all. Meanwhile his model animal project was left in the corner, unfinished, perhaps to complete later, perhaps never to complete at all.

It was like that.