There was a collision at the intersection by our house, before you left. Your hands were above your head, making out the shape of a car.
“I could see the man as he split in two,” you said. “He was air and atoms and you and I were still alone.”
Ages ago, Gary Emmette Chandler attended college for Creative Writing. Now, he spends his spare time drinking too much, writing about failure, and generally trying to outpace a landslide of student loans. You can follow his hungover ramblings on Twitter, @TheWearyLuddite. Or not. That’s okay too.
Good job Gary. Will look forward to seeing more of your writings.
Jolt….reminds me of the Grace Jones song, “Warm Leatherette.” It too describes an MVA. Part of the hook goes, ” . . . the hand brake penetrates your thigh.”