Residual Shake

The horn blared,

a sudden, ripping sound

through the traffic.

My foot slammed the brake.

Heart a panicked fist

in my chest.

Then silence again,

the car in front

just moved on.

Safe.

No crash.

But my hands,

they wouldn't stop.

A tiny tremor,

like an engine idling

too fast,

in my fingertips,

my knees weak.

My breath,

short, shallow,

a frantic little bird

trapped in my throat.

The danger was gone.

My body hadn’t heard.