Didrik Talks to Inanimate Objects: The Car Wreck

I'm still shaken by the conversation

Hey Didrik.

Hey, hello.

Always out walking the dog, I see.

Of course, like every day.

How’s your wife doing, by the way?

She’s much better, thanks. We got quite a scare, but it turned out to be nothing serious. All the tests came back negative.

So it wasn’t her time, then.

What do you mean, sorry?

Well, her moment didn’t come.

What is that supposed to mean?

What do you think?

I get what you’re implying, but is that any way to talk about these things?

And what would be the right way, then?

I don’t know, maybe you could have said, “Well, I’m glad it was nothing serious.”

Why? I’m a wreck, I don’t care if your wife is okay.

Then why did you ask?

Well, because I assume it’s important to you. For you people, health is a big deal.

It doesn’t seem to me like you’re in any position to act smug.

And why’s that?

Have you looked at yourself?

What’s the problem?

You said it yourself: you’re a wreck by the side of the road.

So?

Well, your time has already come, it seems to me.

I don’t think so, you know? If we were to compare it to your world, I’d say I’m in excellent health. But anyway, the comparison doesn’t hold because my existence can’t come to an end like yours.

What if they take you to the scrapyard?

Well, you’d just replace me, that’s all. But why did you get so irritated?

You’re annoying. Although I can understand that for an inanimate object, feeling empathy isn’t exactly easy.

You people aren’t exactly great at it either. But think about this: unlike humans, I can’t hurt anyone.

Well, for that, you’ve probably already done your part.

I haven’t done anything at all, Didrik.

What happened to the people who were inside you?

What do you want to hear? That nothing happened to them?

To be honest, yes.

Then maybe you should stop asking questions. But the truth is, I never did anything to anyone. Or rather, I wasn’t the cause.

Then what was, huh?

Do you really want to know, Didrik?

Tell me.

Nothing special. Plain bad luck. The driver was sober, attentive, driving slowly. Some asshole took a curve a little too wide while passing. Just a little. A light tap on the corner of the bumper, and bang. Think about it. How long does it take for two cars going in opposite directions to pass each other?

A fraction of a second?

Exactly. So let’s just say it was the fault of a fraction of a second. Aren’t you going home to your wife now?

Go fuck yourself. I’m calling the sanitation department, telling them to make you disappear.

Why not? Maybe I’ll see you at the scrapyard. You have a car too, right?

So?

You told me you sometimes go heavy on the alcohol.

So?

I’ll be there waiting for you, Didrik.

You know what? Let’s just say I won’t be walking the dog around here anymore.

Ah! So you’re invoking your right to look the other way?

I’m exercising my free will. Goodbye, and I’ll say it again: go fuck yourself.

Goodbye, Didrik.

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The next day, I called Pelle. I was pretty shaken up, but really, what did that thing say that was so special anyway? So I told him about the wreck and how I wanted him to take it away. There’s this incredible thing about Pelle and the other finns: they don’t always do everything you ask, but when they do, they almost never ask why you asked. Anyway, Pelle showed up with Matti’s old truck and the winch and took it away. I know it’s a Pyrrhic victory, but still, I don’t drive drunk anymore, and maybe I’ll never see that piece of shit again.