Writing Assignment #2
The silver sedan flowed along the snowy highway, its bright headlights illuminating the blowing specks of snow in the darkness and giving the impression of travelling through starry space at warp speed. Heavy branches drooped from the pines lining the sides of the road, occasionally dropping their wet load with a quiet slush.
Inside the car, Loretta and Mick sat in tense silence. Mick’s fingers were almost white as they clutched the steering wheel, negotiating the gentle curves. He was glad there were no other cars on the icy road tonight. Loretta sat in the passenger seat beside him staring through the windows at the huge drifts on the sides of the road, watching for a sign that would tell them they were finally approaching their destination.
Suddenly, with a screech like a hundred fingernails scraping a chalkboard, the car collided with the darkness. Mick and Loretta flew forward, their seatbelts suddenly feeling much too tight against their chests. The airbags deployed with a whoosh, smothering them in powdery fabric.
“What was that?” Loretta gasped as she sat up. Her eyes were wide and staring and her entire body was trembling.
“I don’t know! I didn’t see anything!” Mick responded. He, too, found himself shaking as he checked himself over for injuries.
Loretta turned to look at him. “Weren’t you watching the road?” she asked him incredulously.
“Of course I was watching the road!”
“Did you have too much to drink at our last stop? Are you drunk? How could you have been watching the road and not seen what was right in front of the car?” Loretta’s voice grew more shrill and loud as she spoke.
“I did not drink too much. I was watching the road. I didn’t see anything.” Mick was speaking slowly, but decisively. “Did you see anything?” He asked her.
“Well, no.” she admitted.
“Then let’s go see what it was.” Mick grabbed a flashlight from the glove compartment, opened his car door and stepped out into the frosty air.
Loretta quickly opened her door and followed him out, gathering her coat tightly around her slim frame. In the glowing light of Mick’s flashlight, the entire front of the car looked crumpled, as though the metal had tried to wrap itself around a boulder. But there was no boulder. There wasn’t anything. Without saying a word, both of them turned to peer out into the thick darkness. Whatever their car had hit had vanished, without leaving so much as a footprint behind.
(I mentioned yesterday that my creative writing lesson this week was on showing, not telling. For homework, we were given a scenario, and told to rewrite it, showing what happened. This is the scenario we were given: Loretta and Mick were driving down a lonely highway one winter night. The car hit something, making a loud noise. Loretta and Mick bickered about whether he was driving drunk or not, then they got out to see what was hit. They peered into the darkness, seeing nothing.)
Inside the car, Loretta and Mick sat in tense silence. Mick’s fingers were almost white as they clutched the steering wheel, negotiating the gentle curves. He was glad there were no other cars on the icy road tonight. Loretta sat in the passenger seat beside him staring through the windows at the huge drifts on the sides of the road, watching for a sign that would tell them they were finally approaching their destination.
Suddenly, with a screech like a hundred fingernails scraping a chalkboard, the car collided with the darkness. Mick and Loretta flew forward, their seatbelts suddenly feeling much too tight against their chests. The airbags deployed with a whoosh, smothering them in powdery fabric.
“What was that?” Loretta gasped as she sat up. Her eyes were wide and staring and her entire body was trembling.
“I don’t know! I didn’t see anything!” Mick responded. He, too, found himself shaking as he checked himself over for injuries.
Loretta turned to look at him. “Weren’t you watching the road?” she asked him incredulously.
“Of course I was watching the road!”
“Did you have too much to drink at our last stop? Are you drunk? How could you have been watching the road and not seen what was right in front of the car?” Loretta’s voice grew more shrill and loud as she spoke.
“I did not drink too much. I was watching the road. I didn’t see anything.” Mick was speaking slowly, but decisively. “Did you see anything?” He asked her.
“Well, no.” she admitted.
“Then let’s go see what it was.” Mick grabbed a flashlight from the glove compartment, opened his car door and stepped out into the frosty air.
Loretta quickly opened her door and followed him out, gathering her coat tightly around her slim frame. In the glowing light of Mick’s flashlight, the entire front of the car looked crumpled, as though the metal had tried to wrap itself around a boulder. But there was no boulder. There wasn’t anything. Without saying a word, both of them turned to peer out into the thick darkness. Whatever their car had hit had vanished, without leaving so much as a footprint behind.
(I mentioned yesterday that my creative writing lesson this week was on showing, not telling. For homework, we were given a scenario, and told to rewrite it, showing what happened. This is the scenario we were given: Loretta and Mick were driving down a lonely highway one winter night. The car hit something, making a loud noise. Loretta and Mick bickered about whether he was driving drunk or not, then they got out to see what was hit. They peered into the darkness, seeing nothing.)
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