Gravel crunches under the worn tires of the sleek,
black Audi,
As it speeds its way up the single lane, winding
mountain pass.
The moon is full in the black night sky,
Stars twinkle, millions of fireflies strung like
lights from the tree tops.
A sharp turn, the driver’s headlights illuminate the
next steep curve.
Frantic to escape his drunken wife, is up for any
challenge.
The complete darkness of the small road is proving a
challenge.
Although, the driver loves his Audi.
It is not the most practically car to drive on the
pass with so many curves.
No one could see the driver if they had happened to
pass.
The driver harshly blinks his eyes which bore into
the curve’s top.
Headlights rushes toward him, seemingly from the
sky.
The headlights fall out of the sky,
Swerving, struggling to keep control of the
mountain’s challenge.
The birds audibly flock from the tree tops,
As the lights continue, quickly, to approach the Audi.
The driver hastily veers left to let the speeding
lights pass.
The driver can’t understand how the lights haven’t
hit a tree as it, yet again, curves.
In blatant shock, the driver watches the birds in
the sky flying in curves.
Time is running out the lights have left the sky.
The driver knows he isn’t getting a free pass.
The driver knows the lights, as well as himself,
have both lost the challenge.
The lights are going to crash into the Audi.
The driver has five seconds to get out of his car
and run, tops.
It just wasn’t enough time; he had a better chance
of God rising above the tree tops.
The irony of the situation at hand was eerie, as the
lights illuminate the sickening curves
Of an equally sleek car that belonged to the
driver’s drunken wife, barreling toward the Audi.
The drunken wife is slumped back in her seat, head
angled toward the sky,
Seemingly asleep, completely unaware of the pass’
challenge.
The two cars are face to face now; the driver
mutters a prayer, begging for a quick pass.
And quick was the pass.
The ground quaked as well as the tree tops.
The crash looked painfully, warning people who were
next to try the challenge.
The birds take flight, showing off how easily they
take the curves.
The black mass of little, fluttering birds blanket
the sky.
A few take a rest on the heap of cooling hunk of
metal that used to be an Audi.
The mountain’s challenge has come to pass.
It left two dead, one welded chunk of metal
containing an Audi and God-less tree tops.
The imaginary curves formed by the birds are still
flying, undisturbed, uninhibited, in the sky.
