"At times I think my coffee and tea addictions truly drive my artistic energy. It’s a small sacrifice for the greater good."

Writing Prompt: 30 Seconds

Posted: 12/18/09 | Written by Jeannie | Labels: , , , ,

I sit at the light, singing at the top of my lungs—top down in my just washed, red mustang convertible. Looking to the left I smile at the driver. It’s a beautiful warm day; perfect for cruising. The sunshine warms my cheeks as only the Californian sun can. Eyes pressed close as I feel the rejuvenation take place—this moment, so sweet, so intoxicating, so brilliant.

I’m flying across the intersection. My hands holding my neck— keeping it from snapping back – I brace myself. ‘Oh God, what the hell,’ I think as the car spins once, twice, three times. Somehow I manage to pull the car over to the right. It’s really just a blur. Getting out I hear crying, I’m looking at my car: mangled, twisted, and abused. The driver I smiled at is helping me to the curb. My words can’t come out, they are so angry but they won’t come out. All I hear is crying. Looking down I see my leg is cut. Blood is running down my bruised skin. The cries are mine.

©Jeannie Hart