Middle-aged monk staring at ground, flashes past in blur. Why would I care? Hot. Heavy traffic, Renaldo driving recklessly, unbelted, typical. Purple beam, crackling thunderous energy, outer system battle-stray. Slashes across hood, metal spattering windshield, tipping forward, front end rolling away from us, steel rends screeches. Tumbling through shattered glass, reflections, diffractions, rainbows! Renaldo flying, strangers staring, no no no no no.
Fuming pavement, right cheek scalding, shiny black loafers passing, hands helping, lifting, floating. Soft white cloth underneath, better. Hands cradling my head, bespectacled gray eyes soothing, straw hat, blessed shade, gently smiling mouth. Drifting. I do care. Slee…
Ray N. Franklin
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Very interesting way to write! Love it! Wonderful story!
Thank you! Stream-of-consciousness seemed most economical.