William considered intervening before reminding himself of multiple news reports of good Samaritans losing their lives for their trouble. He wrote about heroes, but he was definitely not one.

The man had continued to shove the woman. Her resistance didn’t free her but only served to antagonize him further. The good news was, in the scuffle, they had moved away in the opposite direction of Orelia. William arrived by her side at the same time they paused at the curb waiting to cross the street.

Mr. Gallantry shook the woman none too gently as she begged him to leave her alone. “You fucking idiot, Barry,” she said, slapping at him.

She wasn’t doing much to calm the situation. Barry’s response was a slap across her cheek, which stopped her struggling and for a moment hushed them both.

Others on the street watched too, but they must have all seen the same news bulletins because nobody made a move other than to watch with hands over their mouths or wrapped around their bodies. Some even just hustled past.

The girlfriend—he hoped not a wife because that was a marriage of hell hounds—raised her free hand to her tear-streaked face. He had laughed inside at hell hounds. What a great description.

Why keep a witty quote to himself? So, with his gaze still fixed on the couple, William repeated to Orelia, “That’s a marriage of hell hounds.”

When she gave no reply, he turned to her to see why, imagining the drama mesmerized her as much as it had captured him. But she wasn’t looking at them. In her hand she held the green book, this the first time he’d ever seen it. A diary maybe, he’d thought.

When he had interrupted with his quip—which didn’t sound so funny spoken aloud—she’d been jotting something on a page. Seeing him looking at her, she abruptly closed the covers and shoved it without reference into her bag. Only then did she acknowledge him with a nod. Odder, she made no comment on the Hell Hounds who’d now entered the crosswalk and seemed calmer. How could she miss seeing them?

“Hi William. Sorry, I was in another world. What did you say?”

“Just commenting on that charming couple.”

“Oh?”

“Mr. and Mrs. Hound on the corner? You couldn’t miss them? They were loud enough. The guy hit her with everyone watching. We can only imagine what goes on behind closed doors.”

Orelia shook her head.

“Poor woman. I hope he gets what he deserves.”

William thought to reply let’s hope, but the screech of brakes interrupted. As he had still been facing in the couple’s direction he caught every moment of the collision between the car and the man. He wondered at the perfect arc Barry made as he flew over the hood to land on the road behind. William pondered if using physics, you could calculate the curve of his flight based on speed, weight and other variables?

That was shock talking of course, because as much as the guy was an asshole, witnessing a human being assaulted by a vehicle was a distressing experience. Later, he’d think, despite the horror, he might have use for this scenario in a future novel. A writer never wastes any event in life. Everything was inspiration.