Windows down,

Radio on.

 

 Red becomes green,

 Hand becomes human.

 

Teen girl faintly squeals,

Both walkers turn around.

 

 Time slows.

 

Strong burned-rubber stench floods the car.

Mirrors display fog and tailgating cars.

Pedestrians cross. Coughing, I make the turn. 

 

     Then I realize

          only I 

               turned

                   the corner.

 

               Why isn't anyone following?

          Why did those people turn around?

     Was the smoke, a car wreck?

How did I not hear it? 

               Was it my fault?