I don't really know where i plan on going with this one, it isn't finished yet. nowhere near finished, but here is the bit I have as of the last hour:
"How Jonathan Duelly Found Himself Belly-up in the Snake Pit"
Or
"Rain on the Windshield"
A short story by
Asa Morris
The tired wipers hummed and clicked along in a delightful tune, fighting back the relentless onslaught of the mid-spring rain. Their operator sat snugly behind them (seatbelt, seat cover) and the windshield, barely noticing their constant passing. Instead, his eyes kept slipping outwards to the sky, which had been gray for some time, a week at the least. But not like today's shade. ####, not even close. The clouds on this particular evening were a startling mix of black, white and silver, and for some reason Jon Duelly couldn't help but wondering if this is what it looked like before a tornado came hauling ass into town, reminding you that, recycle or don't, mother nature is still the goddamned boss, and if she thinks her field would look nicer without your trailer, well by God, she‘s going to find out. Jon cringed a little. He had never seen a tornado, or any other natural disaster for that matter, but that didn't mean that he wanted to either. He was just fine with sunshine, human stench, and Judi Dench.
He gripped the wheel a little tighter through his black leather driving gloves. The slick back-woods roads were making him a little nervous. Three times this spring alone, he had lost control of his little Nissan sedan. The first time, on a freeway exit just south of Philadelphia, he had hit a little too much moisture with a little too much speed, and fish-tailed his way right into the left hand ditch. What a goddamn mess that had been. Then, not a week later, he was coming to a stop in his neighborhood, right across from the Davis' place, where his boy sometimes played doctor with their daughter, he presumed (and was somewhat proud of), and gracefully ended up removing his own mailbox from the ground.
In an odd suddenness, the rain finally let go, and Jon swiped his hand at the wiper control. Maybe this meant that the blue sky, with its entire regal and innocent demeanor, would finally return. Like Arthur, making his grand re-entrance into Camelot, or however the #### that story went. The clouds hung low mumbling in deep inaudible voices 'rain down, rain down, make flowers grow, make ladies frown'. The trees paid no mind and sagged with all of their water weight, or more likely, a deep seeded (ha ha!) depression. Jon Duelly laughed at the thought. He had heard somewhere (or maybe his brain had made it up as fact), that when trees get old enough, just before they begin to petrify or fall to wet splinters, they let out some kind of tree-scream. A strange high-pitched glass breaker that only #### like dogs and dolphins can hear.
Out of the corner of his eye, nearly camouflaged in the light layer of steam on his side windows, he barely noticed the shadow rolling, with all the grace that Jap masseuse had (Tobi? Tabi? What was her name?), towards the road. Here the houses were few, and often hidden behind armies of pines and various species of under brush. Assuming that his aging and failing vision was merely #### with him on, well, ‘one of those days’, he paid no mind to the small dark shape. Paid no mind to the muted whimper, and would have paid no mind to the light ‘thud’ that followed, if not for the almost animal squeal that any parent or truly good hearted human being would have recognized instantly. Jon Duelly, as #### up as he and his tra-la-la-la-la-grown-up-ice-cream-for-breakfast-choke-a-whore-for-dinner lifestyle was, was a good hearted human being, truly.
Almost instantaneously his right foot leaped from the gas pedal and slammed down on the brakes. His heart leaped into his throat and his head was spinning with no such thing as equilibrium anywhere in sight. Panic set in even before he had thrust the shifter into a rolling park, which surely upset his poor old transmission. The tail end of the car (for the fourth time this year) went swinging off to the right, dragging the front end backwards and to the left, sliding carelessly around on the road, currently doubling as a small pond.
The car stopped, having done nearly a 180 from it’s original position. He jammed the keys backwards and out, grabbed a hold of the flimsy plastic #### excuse for a door handle, and yanked open the door. He shoved himself out, practically leaping, and as his left foot hit the now underwater road, his right pant leg snagged on the seat release, and Jon Duelly lost his already diminishing balance. He fell out of the small sedan loosely, reached for the door, the roof, #### anything, missed (####!) and felt the side of his head meet the water, and then, the pavement.
(Light’s out.)
(Game over.)
(Drown in an inch of water.)
(No swimming without an adult.)
(An hour after you eat.)
(No running.)
(No kids.)
(No kids.)
(Kids.)
(Kids.)
(Kid.)
Jon moaned and brought himself upright, sitting in the middle of the road (pond). He dragged a numb arm up, and rubbed the side of his head that had broken his fall. It was warm. Warmer than the water surely was. He opened his eyes slowly, and saw that the sky had gone dark. No, not just dark, black.
“####,” he let out. He brought his hand down to look for any remaining head blood, but night had swallowed any decent visibility, and all he could see was the vague shape of his hand. Along with most of his body, his ass had gone damn near completely numb. He had to get up. Planting his sore (and probably bloody) hand into the water, he was able to bring himself up onto one knee. Then, with the other hand, reached for the side of the car for leverage. He got halfway up, and his nature washed car failed him. He slid a little down the side, and bounced his head off the rear door panel, tried to catch himself, and fell backwards onto his still sore (but probably no longer bloody) hand. There was a ‘snap’ and a rod of pain was sent flaring up from his wrist, through his arm and shoulder, and right up to the base of his skull. “Jesus ####!!” he yelped, and again fell back onto the road.
so, yeah. hope you at least didn't hate it.
