After an afternoon spent tuning bikes and pianos for a community bike share program run by enthusiastic volunteer bike hippies, I was just riding along with traffic on a two lane road through a busy city park when I pulled up behind a boy on a bike.
This Latino kid was maybe seven years old but performing amazing flatland moves on his Walgoose bike as he rolled along with the slow traffic.
He had some kind of mechanical and slowed to a stop. I was already in the center of the lane and signaled a stop when the maniac behind me in his 90s black Mercedes 300E decided he needed to jump the queue by a single person, roared around me, swerved back into the lane and flattened the poor boy.
The driver, who had a wife and two kids in the car with him, started to run but saw I already took a photo of his license plate with my phone.
Several bystanders called 911 and an off-duty nurse ran over to perform whatever first aid he could, but the little boy was gone by the time paramedics arrived
I woke up confused and shaken and it took me a moment to realize I really didn’t just witness a death in what turns out to be a vividly real dream.