20080328

Oversteer

by J.H. Batson

Veering onto the highway, late for work, I imagine the cars behind me careening through traffic and colliding in a shimmering glory of twisted metal. Drivers would plunge into a spiritual oblivion as their blood drenches the street, forever staining the cement and filling the broken crevices with their forgotten life. With the crooked gas pedal of my car pressed to the floor, my engine roars and from its bowels comes a speed that slices through the fighting wind. Faster, I think. Miss the exit, forget work – you don't need it. Your blood will no longer mingle and decay with the dust of tiresome labor, nor will your spirit be broken by the cemented authority of your superiors.

6S

J.H. Batson is a high school student seeking confirmation of his literary merit.

10 comments:

GM said...

Confirmation given. A great metaphor, and a transcendent read.

Joe said...

Coolness. It read like classic Kerouac. Keep writing!

Leatherdykeuk said...

Fast-paced and travelling at the speed of 6!

Catherine said...

Absolutely wonderful!! great six!

Madam Z said...

Confirmed! Now, for heaven's sake, slow down!

ThomG said...

You are confirmed. Great start; now goose that gas pedal. I'm wanting to see more.

Baby Island said...

I was pressing my imaginary brake pedal the whole time! Woo hoo, speed on and write some more. :)

Anonymous said...

Consider your literary merit wholly and unconditionally confirmed. Promise me you'll always wear your seatbelt. ~Jennifer W.

Harry said...

The superior authority in me wonders what a high school student really knows of tiresome labor. But the anarchist in me hopes you blow by the exit only stopping for beef jerky and gas.

Anonymous said...

Nice.