Eyes_on_the_Sun

Note: Since I couldn't figure out how to tab, I seperated paragraphs with a space. However my story has breaks in it so I marked these breaks with two spaces (also each break happens between dashes). Enjoy, hopefully.

Driving


I shouldn’t be driving. This can’t be safe. It’s too late, far past midnight. My eyelids are barely open. They slowly sink over my sight and then are startled by a passing streetlight overhead, almost wide open for a moment until they begin sinking again; the streetlights are my friends, my guardians, working in waves to hold the lids open and situate a crutch for support. But my eyelids aren’t having it; they’re weary of my interests and begging, “Please let me close. Leave me be, leave me buh –”


–My eyes open as I come back a few seconds later, a couple dashed lines on the night pavement lost, another streetlight overhead. Again my lids are sinking, things are fading out–


–Don’t worry though. I know this town so well I pretty much could drive it with my eyes closed if I wanted. I’m in control. I’m not going to fall asleep. I’m just going to keep on cruising because I don’t want to go home. There is nothing to do there. I want to do something, something significant. Out here, driving, I can leave my mark on the world. I’ll keep on cruising until I do. I will.

I think I’ll get something to wake me up at the gas station convenience store here on the corner. It rests there in the bright buzzing night: the insomniac traveler’s oasis. I go in through automatic doors –beep beep–, explore the shelves enveloped in the sound of refrigerators and grab some nutritious stuff, the kind that tastes sweet and gives you that thirty-minute boost, and a bottle of an energy drink with an obscene name. When I lay it down on the counter the cashier looks at me like he’s going to ask, “What are you doing out this late by yourself?” but he doesn’t, he doesn’t care. And I don’t care that he doesn’t care. So I pay and one of us says, “Have a nice night sir” and the other replies, “You too,” –beep beep–.

Back in the car I continue cruising the town, eating candy, ready to do something. I’m going down main streets now, where even at this hour there are other vehicles on the road. With the window rolled down I can hear the wind snarling, and when an oncoming car whizzes towards me their music is loud and I’m interested and it grabs hold of my door panel where it clutches with might for a moment until the distance between my cabin and the other becomes so large that the music’s grip fails, the mangled remains dragging floppily away in the opposite direction.

At a stoplight I pull up beside a raised truck with two guys inside. They look down at the car next to them smaller than their tires. In a truck like that you always check out the person in the car next to you. It’s a rule for assuring that you’re impressing chicks, or in this case an announcement to the mandatory race out of the gates when the light turns green. So here we wait at the intersection by the closed discount warehouse super store, spying on the opposite light for when it scrolls up from green, to yellow, to red. The driver in the truck knows early, releases the brake before our light changes, devours the crosswalk lines, and gets a loud jump. I stomp the accelerator like a soda can. My tires begin circling, smoking. I am the roaring engine outside your bedroom window when you’re trying to fall asleep; you hear my tires burning and wait for the noise of a crash, but it never comes. Once I get moving I keep pace a little behind him, then pull ahead as the needle pushes forty, fifty, sixty in seconds so easily. I’m going to do it, I’m going to impress! A light close ahead is turning red and I press down on the brake, but the two guys in the truck heedlessly rumble on with thick velocity. Oh, well, yeah, I guess they beat me. I guess I didn’t impress them. I guess I did not prove myself. I am stopped. I am tired, sinking lids, fading out–


–Coming back, still waiting at the light. Another car has pulled beside me, not like the last. There’s an older man inside. I must show respect. He looks over and I play the facial expression game, remembering it’s natural for a mouth to seem curved down and I probably look like someone with an anger issue. So I begin smiling to show I’m not an angry person, but that of course looks dumb. All right then, I’ll just try a regular not to angry not to sad expression. God, I look like an idiot. He’s looking at me, watching me cycle to try and please him. What’s going to get me out of this one? I take a swig out of the bottled energy drink, then, look over at him and tell him with a stare: “Yeah that’s right, it’s beer old man. I don’t follow the rules. I drink and drive.” The light turns green and I ditch him without trying. Wait, damn, that’s not what I wanted to do. I scared him away, another opportunity to show my importance lost, his uninterested headlights disappearing in the rearview mirror. Heavy lids, fading–

–This isn’t helping; racing into red lights and pretending to drink beer. This isn’t the place for me to show I’m important. I’m turning off to a side street. There are fewer cars here. Neighborhoods wall the road, mailboxes keep watch. I still want to do something. I don’t know what though. I guess there aren’t many possibilities, what the hell do I expect, I’m driving for God’s sake? If I want to make an impression I should just do volunteer work or some crap, right? About all you can do with driving is signal before you turn or let someone go first at a stop sign, and these don’t impress; it isn’t enough, people take it for granted if you do it and call you a jerk if you don’t. So what am I doing here? I’m tired, I don’t know, nothing? I give up. I’m going to leave this place.

There’s a long, straight road in front of me now. At night, this late, with the streetlights glowing from the reflectors on the dark, concealed road, it looks like an airport runway. I’m going to fly away, away to a place where I don’t feel the need to impress. I turn the air conditioning on high to get that jet engine hum. Beginning take-off sequence. I accelerate the way an airplane would, with a quick hop. My body is pushed back against the seat, my head force-tilted up at the night sky where I’ll disappear with the stars. My vehicle is gaining lift, it’s reached max speed, the needle is pinned on top of a one hundred, the tires have left the pavement; I’m flying. All the houses and swimming pools are pulling away. The streetlights are dimming. And now, it’s all gone. I’m in the night sky, I am the night sky, and everything is black. I feel my eyelids sinking, but can’t tell if things are fading, everything remains black–


–I see something. Lights. They’re coming back, in two rows towards a horizon, becoming more illuminating to the world around.

Am I landing?

Have I reached paradise?

Already?

Oh, it’s coming back so quickly. This doesn’t feel right. There’s a house, another, ten more, on both sides, wait, I haven’t been flying, I haven’t gone anywhere. I’m on the ground. I’m on the road, going way too fast. Whoa, way too fast! Brake! The lights are running out –Oh shit! – The lights are running out! Oh my god, what does that mean! Look dumb ass, look! This road leads to a dead end! A wall! My life is over! My life is wasted! Brake! Brake, damn it! I’m not stopping fast enough! Stoooooo–


–It feels like years have passed since I’ve been conscious, a lifetime. I’m awake now but I do not open my eyes; I’m afraid of what I might see if I do. What happened? I can’t remember anything. I can’t remember living. I have no memories. There is something pressed against my chest. Wait, I recall being in a car accident. That must be an airbag. It must have saved my life. I am born again. I think I’ll open my eyes now.

It’s night. I’m in a hospital room, not a wrecked car. The airbag is a woman. Her head is lying on my chest and she is sleeping with her arms holding me tight. I do not recognize her. She looks concerned in her slumber, exhausted. Who is this woman? As I look at her with intense concentration her eyes are tickled open and a smile tiptoes across her weary face. She is awake and looking at me, filling with what appears to be joy. I still don’t recognize her, but whoever she is, with that smile now spreading as if from assurance that everything is going to be all right, I just did something for her, I just saved her universe.

__________________
To stare at the sun will blind, to get too close will burn...

D4rk_3|f

hi there eys of the sun. How are you?. thanks fo posting your story. always nice to have new ppl here.

Heres what I think

1. This doesnt make sense to me at all.....*sorry*

2. Dont you mean "My eyelids arenot subjecting to it" in stead of "having it"

3. I dont think you should use the work sining. I think Closing is more appropiate.

4. Try to keep the word "stuff" out of stories as they dont tell the reader anything.

5. Decide here who says what. We all generate a mental picture of your character and the shopkeeper and now we have to picture both of them saying the same thing.

6. Snarl?. Ive never heard wind snarl.... try howled rather.

7. which is no bigger than the height of their gigantic tyres. (Sound better)

8. Who are you going to impress?.

9. Press is usually associated with our hands whereas stomp or step would be more appropiate.

10. Can headlights be interesting?

11. I dont understand the end of your story or actually what you were ryng to tell us in the entire piece. Im sorry.

12. Hope you dont take my critiques badly but Just just opinions. No hard feeling huh.

good luck

__________________
"Some people drink from the fountain of knowledge, others just gargle."

pgoroncy

To add to what D4rk_3lf said. I liked your used of whitespace, but the end of the story didn't really make sense to me. I didn't understand what you were trying to say.

__________________
Writing Forums Guide WF's Online Resource Guide for Writers

Noobio - Gain the Knowledge

Eyes_on_the_Sun

Oh, no hard feelings at all D4rk. I actually put the story here with hopes that it would get some editing from someone else. I'll consider your thoughts.

To clarify what happens in the end of the story is the main character waking up in the hospital after the accident. He then can't recall any memories because he is now suffering from amnesia. He can't recognize this woman, the woman most likely being his mother.

Thanks for reading.

__________________
To stare at the sun will blind, to get too close will burn...

gohn67

I enjoyed your story. You write really well.

But like D4rk 3lf said there doesnt seem to be a clear purpose to the story. Something just happens at the end, but doesn't real tie in to the rest of the story. All the parts don't really come together in the end.

While I was reading I kpet trying to tie things together I couldn't

Well I guess he's a reckless driver. shown by the speeding past red lights and racing cars. Dont believe he lost to that truck though. Those trucks are retarded. I alugh everytime I see someone driving those.

I gueess theres a connection between his coma and sleep. You should maek more clear his injury.

Good job though. I read just for if I like it or not. I don't care about some small technical mistakes, I usaully dont catch them anyways. It kept me interested throughout.

Eyes_on_the_Sun

Really? Interesting. Well, what I meant to do with the ending was to show that the main character finally gets what he's been trying for the entire story, to do something significant. However, once he does, he doesn't even understand what he's done.

Thanks for reading.

__________________
To stare at the sun will blind, to get too close will burn...

gohn67

I didn't think of it like that. That makes a lot of sense. I think your emphasiation of the sleepiness made me come up with that conclusion. THats interestiing now that you tell me it does make more sense.