Gus

When I was little, I had an imaginary friend.
Gus wasn’t another kid or a cowboy or a dragon or an astronaut.
Gus was a fireman.
Over the years, I made real friends, so I didn’t need an imaginary one anymore.
Gus became sad and slowly disappeared.
Last night, I lost control of my car and rammed into a tree.
The last thing I remember was the door being ripped from my car and Gus reaching in to pull me out.
“Thank you, Gus,” I said.
When I came to in the hospital, Gus was gone.
So were my legs.