Have you ever been tooling along, on your way to wherever, making green light after green light, doing just over the limit, without risking much of anything, when the light ahead of you turns yellow, and you think to yourself, we got this! The we, in this case, unfortunately, includes the guy in front of you and you know for sure, indeed, you say to yourself; “if I can make it, surely he has it made.”
Then, for reasons you never see, inexplicably, the rear end of his car raises those brake lights so much higher than they ever should be and all of the crap that had been on the seats of your car is now all over the floor, and you are praying like a madman that you are not going to hear that terrible mashing sound!
Expletives deleted here, for the sake of tender ears, but you are cussing a blue streak at this point. There's just no way in hell to explain what just happened here. In the space of a couple of seconds, we went from happily flying down the road, to the taste of fear on the tongue, to complete outrage at the driver who just really doesn't care about getting there.
This just happened to me. But I wasn't driving. I was reading something. The green lights were green. Birds were chirping. The sky was clear and the air was pure and crisp through my open windows. Then the story, or the continuity of it, went right off a cliff. I did not find the brakes in time. I'm now falling through, down and into, the vast canyon, hopelessly sure of my fate. I've often dreamed of flying, without a plane, so this is that!
Nothing, save a complete re-write of this one section, can save me. That's all I can say.
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