A delivery van turned onto the street.
The young driver had one hand on the wheel and his phone pressed to his ear. His sunglasses sat on the bridge of his nose.
On the console beside the handbrake, a freshly printed clinical report, photosensitive epilepsy visible in the header.
"Mom? Yes, the doctor confirmed it. Photosensitive epilepsy. I can't drive anymore after this."
His attention drifted for a few seconds. The van rolled over an unremarkable speed bump.
The sunglasses slid off his face and dropped near the accelerator.
He muttered something irritated, looked down to grab them, and when he looked back up, his bare eyes met the strobing 3D advertisement screen on the nightclub facade at exactly the wrong moment.
White. Then nothing coherent.
The seizure hit fast, a brief violent shudder, then the body going rigid, consciousness departing. His foot, stiffening as the muscles locked, pressed the accelerator to the floor.
Wuuuu—!
