Yet another book beginning here, but I seem to write best in fits and starts, when I have the inspiration. An obsessive love story between two ghosts, is the essential premise...
We didn't get a chance to say goodbye to anyone, at the end. The bodies of Sam Fisher and Joy Small lay motionless against the car's dashboard. Glass was everywhere, shimmering like an accidental landing of small fry on a beach, and under this lethally pretty blanket both of our faces wore expressions of undignified surprise; our frozen final act of communication with a world waiting to find us there in the ditch, and to recoil in horror.
It all happened in a moment. I was behind the wheel, smiling at Joy, unaware of the tractor waiting for us in the gateway. That hulking mass of green and yellow metal, something so simple, turned out to be our watcher; the object entwined with our very fate. Of course I should've been more careful. I was too busy breathing, too busy smiling, too busy in love. And then the corner. The tractor suddenly loomed over us like a lurid ogre. Joy and I looked at each-other, with eyes full of disbelief, and then bang, shatter, clatter. Dead.
But that wasn't the end, not really. Something funny happened. In that moment I saw the crash again. I saw in my mind a representation of our resting place. The mangled Morris, our lifeless bodies, and those sparkling sherds of glass. A simple picture. A message from the Universe: this is what your life was. Or what you will be remembered for, at least. And suddenly I had no body, just thoughts. No breath, just a pang of quickening regret. I was nowhere and somewhere, and everywhere between.
'You fucking idiot,' said Joy, flatly, her eyes fixing me with distilled anger.
'I'm so sorry,' seemed the only thing I could possibly say. 'How... how are we still talking?'
'I don't know, but I can't bear to look at you. What have you done?'
'I crashed the car. I didn't see the tractor, I...' I tailed off. Sorry would never cover it.
Joy glared, scowling at me, and then at the wreck. She closed her eyes, and screamed into the sky. 'Bastard...! I wasn't ready.'
'Did you see anything, Joy?' I asked, mindful of the picture I saw.
She fixed me with hot eyes again. 'What?' she spat.
'I saw a picture. I saw this, the wreck, when we died.'
Joy frowned. 'Perhaps.'
'What did you see?' I asked.
'I can't remember,' she replied with a hollow tone.
Just a taster. Tell me what you think!
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