It was my turn to dig again. I was still winded and sweaty despite it being the middle of the night and kind of chilly. I thought about how they always made it look so easy in the movies. Then I remembered that in the movies, they rarely show the actual digging and when they do, they dissolve to the guy scooping out the last shovel full of dirt from the completed hole. I forgot about the dissolve. How boring would it be to watch somebody dig an entire hole? I suppose a time lapse shot of someone digging might be interesting to watch.
"Will you hurry up!" said Charlie.
I turned to him and said, "I'm digging as fast as I can."
"Well, I think you're slacking off since we agreed to take half hour shifts. Maybe you're not working hard enough and making me do more of the work."
"Will you give me a break, we're going to be here all night as it is."
"And I'd like to get out of here before sunrise."
We were a ways outside of town. Some unincorporated part of the adjacent county. I couldn't believe it had come to this. Charlie always talked big but he had never followed through with any threats or posturing... until tonight. And with who? Some guy at a laundromat? What was the point? Maybe he needed to prove to himself that he was as much of a bad ass as he made himself out to be. So why am I helping him? Because he's my best friend. Has been since we were kids. Not sure why. I can't say that I really liked the guy. He was a bully. Even in school. I suppose I befriended him just so he wouldn't bully me. It certainly wasn't because he was nice to me. He would always boss me around and being the meek sort of kid that I was, I just did what he told me. Now, here we are, years later, and he's still bossing me around.
"Hurry up!" he demanded again.
"Get off my back, Charlie, or there'll be two bodies in this hole by morning!" I yelled viciously. That shut him up. Where did that come from?
Friday, February 28, 2014
Sunday, February 2, 2014
Prompt: Write something that starts with a “Screech”
There was a flash of bright red and my muscle memory kicked in. My foot slammed on the brake pedal and the unmistakable, ear piercing sound of rubber being dragged against pavement reverberated through the structure of the car. The glowing red of the break lights on the semi in front of me seemed to rush toward me when, in actuality, I was rushing toward them.
I must have been following too closely because within just a few seconds of hitting the brake I saw the front of my car make contact with the vehicle in front of me and watched with equal parts horror and fascination as the hood of my car started to buckle and then crumple like a piece of aluminum foil. Then I couldn’t see anything as my windshield shattered, turning into a random mosaic of tiny pieces of safety glass, held in place by an invisible layer of polymer. Then my view was obscured by an off-white barrier that appeared suddenly with a loud “POP!” My seatbelt locked in place as my head slammed forward and my face hit the fabric of the airbag.
It was the first time I had ever been in such a severe accident.
(I was never in such an accident. -Joe)