Stinger

Screaming pieces of jet fuselage seasoned with black burnt humans seem suspended in air for a microsecond before they slam into highway black-top all around me. Double-fisted arm-wrestling with the steering wheel, cheap novelty leather twisting beneath my white-knuckles, the car shrieks as it lunges past a smashed tail-fin. A packed mini-van implodes under a falling turbine, luggage thuds a short drum-line as matching suitcases hit the earth 1-2-3 in a row. Half a man body-slams my hood, the severed end smearing my wind-shield. Obscured view of the devil rain causes slammed brakes, but I feel my front tires ba-dump over something soft and wet.

Originally posted on august 18, 2005 on Myspace.

More of my prose fiction.