Welcome to chapter one of Bump and Grind. If you’d like to listen, rather than read, CLICK HERE.
Dying felt like skinny-dipping in a deep August lake. Warm and wet, floating in a silence that was sweeter than a lover’s whisper.
In the moments before I crashed, I’d been listening to the oldies radio station, singing a campy calypso song to stay awake. The bright orange sparks flying over the hood of my car looked pretty—until I fully woke up and realized what they meant. I grabbed the wheel and veered away from the guardrail.
The car spun out of control, the speed too great and the rain-soaked road too slick for my maneuvering. The last thing I saw was the tree line on the other side of the deserted highway, a shadowy army of trunks exposed by the headlights. I heard a bang like a pistol shot and was blinded by the stark white of the airbag. That was it.Read On
Bump and Grind is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.