I didn’t mean to kill him… It was just an accident. I mean I just looked in the rearview mirror for a second. Like you’re supposed to do. Check your mirrors. Make sure that the road is safe behind as well as in front. But in that split second as I was checking the mirror, he must have jumped out in front of me. I felt the sickening bump, bump. But it was such minor sound and feeling that I did not even really think that I had hit anything, let alone killed anybody. But I did. And I just kept driving. I did not even slow down.

Then, I felt guilty. So I turned around. I wanted to see if I really did hit anything or anybody. It was dark. The bump was so slight. Maybe I hit a tree branch or something like that. I just did a u-turn and went back to see. It was late at night. Nobody had been in front or behind me on the country road.

I kept looking to the other side of the road, but I did not see anything where I felt the bump, bump. I did another u-turn when I knew I was well beyond where I felt the impact. Then, I slowly retraced my route. I kept a sharp lookout for a body. Or anything else that I might have hit. I hoped it was a branch. But I knew deep down that it was not. Those bumps had been too soft.

Then, I saw it. A body. I knew it was the right place. I did not mean to, but I knew I killed him. Still, I kept driving. But I no longer felt guilty. At least not as guilty. Yes, it was one of God’s creatures that I had run over. Yes, it was dead. But it was a possum.