The Pattern

bend-curve-rainy-5275By Sathyaghan

Fog unfurls and rolls down the hill. Where it does not touch, small patches of emerald flashes. The long road, winding and unwinding, looping and twisting.

The speedometer points at a more than reasonable figure. A tune escapes his lips, whistling. A light drizzle falls all around, windshield painted by obscure patterns of drops and drags.

“The road needs widening.” The usual spark of casual thoughts that dot one’s mind.

Out of nowhere, a shadow, it hurtles fast, no time to turn, the wet road abetting the speed. A sharp crack! The glass breaks, a pattern of splintering. Darkness.


3 thoughts on “The Pattern

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