This is the second day of the #TNCmy100 challenge, where I write two new original hook paragraphs, on my way to creating 100 of them in 60 days (I'm off on Sundays). Yesterday's are here.
Three:
The car came right out of the setting sun, you know, all fire and glass and I swerved at the last second, tugging the wheel right to try to miss...anyway I didn't, and the black Ford slammed into me right on the door panel. It crumpled like wet paper and ripped my seat off the mounts, cannoning me sideways as the car spun like the lid of a jar. They told me they cut me out of my Thunderbird and threw the rest away, and I was two months in a white room with people in scrubs telling me I was going to be just fine. I probably would have been, too--the body will heal--but I had nightmares that turned into memories. And in the memories I saw the white-gloved driver of the other car, as he downshifted and whipped the wheel over. Smiling.
Four:
Harley looked up as Carl laid the flowers over her head, a halo of purple and white strung together. She breathed in and her eyes fluttered closed for just a moment. Carl had never been so close to her, had never had her roseblush lips parted just so. It was hardly his fault. The work of a moment, really. A split second. He laid his own lips on hers, just brushing, as the lei settled on her shoulders, and then he stepped back. His face drained of color and his eyes widened, watching hers for any sign. She stood there, fingering the orchids, for an eternity until her eyes slid open and she saw him in agony. The corner of her mouth turned up, and she said, "Took you long enough."
Ninety-six to go. See you tomorrow.
~Cristof
For more on the #TNCmy100 challenge, here's a link.