At the sound or screeching tires, and the loud crash of metal against metal, all hell broke loose. The quiet suburban street turned into a scene of mayhem. Being this was a quiet residential side street. There were very few people around in the middle of the day. What few people were around came running out of the houses. They quickly set to work trying to get the victims out of their mangled cars.
To their surprise there no people in the cars. People scurried around like ants trying to find victims. Scouring the front yards along the blocks surrounding the accident site they found no bodies, or injured people waiting for help.
He found himself directing traffic, and reporting the accident to his superiors . The rescue squads arrived and left when there were no bodies to rescue. The fire department came and saw. But there was no fire no put out. The police came. They found the empty wreaks and spent several hours questing all the would-be rescuers.
Through it all one man stood quietly watching the afternoon's drama unfold. He went over to hi and tried to talk to him. He barely got a response from him. It was like he wasn't there. Talkative he wasn't.
When he got back to his office he tried to write a report of a accident that had just appeared out of nowhere, None of the plate numbers on the cars came up with any drivers or owners. It was like they didn't exist. he knew something was not right. Cars don't appear in a wreak, by themselves. But there they were.
Sitting in the living room playing Johnny pushed his toy cars around. Boxes that lined the hand drawn streets on the huge piece of roll out construction paper he was playing on. He sat looking quietly at the pile of cars he'd just crashed together in the middle of one of the "streets" Then he reached over and picked up the cars and tossed them in the box with the other cars, and went to play somewhere else.