dark beige

The last thing I remember was a scream, and the screech of tires as I was hit hard by a speeding car. Then I kind of remember hitting the bonnet, then nothing.

Now I've regained consciousness and I would seem to be lying in some pain on the road in what looks like could be the same street in this rather down at heel part of downturn Luton. But I'm not so sure this isn't actually heaven itself.

Are these toothless, battered onlookers just gawping locals, or are they angels? Could that chav there filming my distress on his mobile phone be doing so to show to Saint Peter later? It's possible. Maybe, in a bizarre twist of fate, I've woken up in heaven but don't know I'm dead, because heaven IS a place on earth, like Belinda Carlisle said. And that place on earth is Luton. I always thought heaven would look a lot like South Bedfordshire.

Or maybe I'm still alive after all. That would explain the terrible pain, to be fair.