A short story by Rebecca Kural, Co-Manager & Writing Editor
If you were pushing 90 on a backroad , and you saw that it dropped off over a cliff, you would slam the breaks, right?
I mean, that’s what I was supposed to do. Problem was, I could not keep my eyes on the damn road.
“Hands clenched around the wheel, I peer out of my side window. I don’t even notice my acceleration, I’m just wondering whether I could get extra credit if I calculated the velocity of my car as it plummets over the side.
I looked down at the time, realizing that I’m supposed to be at one of my club meetings. My stomach sinks. I’m always dropping the ball.
I’m meters away from the edge at this point. It does not bother me too much, except for the fact that tears are streaming down my face and I am hyperventilating. Maybe this is what I deserve.
I feel a large thump. My car slows to a stop.
6 feet
From the edge.
Ugh, a flat tire.
I step out of my car, walking forward in a trance. At the edge I peer down in disbelief at my intended destination. What the hell was I thinking? Why didn’t I slam the breaks?
I probably shouldn’t drive for a while, I say to myself as I start the long walk back down the road.”
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