If only one thing had happened
differently: if that shoelace hadn't broken; or that delivery
truck had moved moments earlier; or that package had been wrapped
and ready, because the girl hadn't broken up with her
boyfriend; or that man had set his alarm and got up five minutes
earlier; or that taxi driver hadn't stopped for a cup of
coffee; or that woman had remembered her coat, and got into an
earlier cab, Daisy and her friend would've crossed the street,
and the taxi would've driven by. But life being what it is
— a series of intersecting lives and incidents, out of
anyone's control — that taxi did not go by, and that
driver was momentarily distracted, and that taxi hit Daisy, and her
leg was crushed.
