This is my last Flash-Fiction, Enjoy! Vote! Comment!
The Crash
Kodaline was blaring in my ears but, still, I heard mum on the phone.
The fields outside flew by.
There was no light coming from the heavens.A thick blanket of clouds had befallen the world.
The drive was long but my ipod was fully charged.
In the front, my mother let loose a shriek, she slammed the brakes.
We were still moving, the brakes snapped.
Whatever my mom tried to avoid, we hit. Hard.
The seconds moved like minutes.
On impact, my back gave way, my neck spasmed and broke.
The car rolled under a bridge, alit with flames.
In my dying moments, I heard the lead singer of Kodaline belt out
'I'll pray for you....'
Please do. Please, please do...
And then black.
YOU ARE READING
Think about it
PoetryIt makes absolutely no sense. It isn't a story, It has no plot. Its a poem, its a thought its a short story or a scene. It could be anything.
