The first time I saw a spirit, I became immediately nauseous after the experience.
The spirit was so powerful that it brought a brief moment of its entire timeline into my present tense. It was the scene of an accident at the intersection of Kīlauea and Harding, precisely where I was standing. Two vehicles twisted together because of their tremendous impact while attempting to thread through the intersection simultaneously. One had the right of way, the other did not, but thought they could make it. Needless to say, they did not. The old man was driving the Mercedes, just trying to get home in time to bring his wife her medication. This was his tableau; his mournful look told me he wanted me to do something. Something that would rectify the situation. "I can't do anything," I apologized. "This is done; it's already happened; there's no going back."Before he vanished, he sat on the sidewalk next to the traffic light pole, leaned on it, and cried. His tableau of twisted metal, death, grief and mourning went with him. Behind me was the Kīlauea fire station. You can only imagine how high I jumped and how loud I screamed when the station alarm went off, right? It was so embarrassing, especially if anyone had seen it. I probably farted too.
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