Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

Drop dead

There is a war going on outside of the car's window. All bullets are firing but no one is firing back. The only angry one in this tale is the rain itself. It's drops of water slamming against the hood and the windows in a desperate effort to break through. The thunder creating a soundtrack of total destruction and lightning adding the visual effects. Each drop trying it's best to penetrate anything.

Sometimes it wins the war. No one knows why the war ever started but the victory is wet and uncalled for. Each drop is harmless but it all becomes a staggering display of power when it unites on the tar in front of the car. It breaks the properties of mr tire's powerfull grip in a matter of seconds.

It's awsome display of power is when mr tire looses tar and becomes a ice scater with the finesses of a overweight panda. Each wheel trying to grip as they scream for help. The bulk of steel and rods become a loose canon as it does it's waltz of destruction and then mingles with the crowd of metal and alloy from the front and the back. The plates snap loose and parts become the new arsenal for the war.

Each bolt and scrap metal turning into bullets as the car becomes the war engine of nature, turning flesh into blood and families into widows and tears. The rain's victory dance is when it washes the blood from the face of a loved father of a child and loving husband of a wife. The mangled vehichle becoming rain's proud artwork from hell. Drive carefully.

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