Thanksgiving Day. The sun beat down, surprisingly hot for the time of year as Highway 71 stretched onward into the distance. An old blue car crested the overpass and began to slow to turn. Four lanes of road, but no turn lane. The car came to a stop with its five passengers, each ready to arrive at the restaurant that was now less than a football field away. In the front a balding man in his fifties sits in the driver's seat, his eyes covered by sunglasses, watching a car coming the other direction. Beside him is a young child, idly looking out the window at the green cedar trees lining the road. In the back three others, an elderly couple and a woman the same age as the driver are making small talk. As the three chat the thought of looking behind them never passes their mind. If they had, they might have seen the green truck crest the overpass. The road is four lanes, but the truck stays in the left, barreling down the road far above the speed limit. Before him the old blue car begins to turn, signal flashing as the truck closes. There is no high pitched squeal of brakes. No warning. The green truck slams into the car at full speed with a sickening crunch. The blue car screams under the impact, its passengers hurled forward. The driver's airbag explodes in his face, cushioning him. The others are not so lucky. To his right the child is caught by the seatbelt, gripping him tightly, crushing in on his chest as he gasps. The elderly woman sitting in the middle of the back seat flies forward, her head slamming into the dashboard of the car as the seatbelt fails to restrain her. A crimson burst marks where her forehead struck. Her husband beside her slams forward into the back of the passenger seat. Both are knocked unconscious. The woman behind the driver suffers the worst. The very shape of the car has been destroyed by the blow, the door no longer an exit but a prison as it crushes inwards. The deformed metal squeezes in on her. Behind, the man driving the truck gets out and runs toward the car, frantically pulling to open the driver side door.
This is very well written, and the imagery really draws out the violent nature of the event in explicit detail. I could envision this in slow motion as I read it, which is saying a lot. If I saw this sort of descriptive writing as part of, say, a public service announcement to wear seatbelts, it would prove to be very, very effective.
ReplyDeleteThe imagery you use in your paragraph helps the reader vividly picture the events of that horrible accident. One line that really caught my attention was when you wrote " To his right the child is caught by the seatbelt, which grips him tightly, crushing in on his chest as he gasp." Reading this sentence made me feel horror and fear for the child. Your paragraph provokes a lot of emotion. The only suggestion I have for improvement would be to change some transitions and awkward sentences. An example of this is with the line"..an elderly couple and a woman about the age of the man in the front are making small talk. And even farther behind them, a green truck crests the overpass." You may want to word the first sentence differently to make it flow better, and find another way to transition to talking about the green truck. I was also thinking that the story might even have a more dramatic appeal if you were to write it in the first person. Overall, it was a really good paragraph.
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