Twisted Metal From A Birds’ Eye View
Both of their voices vibrated in the leather covered skeleton, the sound of thunder barely overpowering their scratchy tones. Rain blinded him, the harsh tongues seeming to be more important than the inevitable events.
Everything happened so slowly, gracefully even, they floated like astronauts who just exited earth’s atmosphere. Her drink flew, creating a failed water color project on the backseat. The necklace she was wearing caught in the seams of the head rest. The landing was as deafening as a death of a star. In the silence there was the muffled sound of glass shattering, morphing and bending the light from the roads, giving the effect of a 1970s disco club. Burnt rubber irritated his nose as the scene settled to the stop, the car landing like a cat clinging on to the landmark bridge. The frame that used to hold the windshield, vacant, revealing the frosted pavement as if snow had just begun falling.
A deep red traced down her face, far more distracting than her cherry red lips that he began forgetting the touch of. Her bright childhood scar overpowered by the gash that was no longer gushing, mascara smeared on her brow bone. His ears became heated and his throat swollen, recalling the moments he shared with the limp girl to his right. He can remember her screams and her laughs and the feeling of her fingertips running across his face. His wingspan barely lacked in length as he attempted to reach her, death would have been more enjoyable than this. He could never look away.
The pain became numbing, waves of regret drowning him faster than the flood waters beginning to caress the distorted bumper. He admired her eyes one last time, still locked with his, draining the final bits of confusion from his body. She was just within his reach, there was a sudden flash, humming so invitingly. Numbness surrounded his atmosphere, then there was bliss.