The sound she made when the truck pulled in front of us.
The sound of tires, squealing and chattering on the pavement.
The sound of metal, hot, twisting, bending and folding.
The sound of the emergency siren wailing in the distance.
The sound of the silent word she mouthed as she watched me go.
The sound I made last as I left this temporal plane.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.06 seconds at 8:15pm on Nov 27, 2024 via server WEBX1.