Accidental Shattering

Robert Gilchrist
The Assortment
Published in
3 min readMay 1, 2017

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” moaned Abraham in the early morning sun.

The sun had yet to melt the dew beneath his feet. His sneakers were soaked through. Faint puffs of mist came out of his nose rapidly as he tried to keep calm. Like all those stupid mugs said.

“Should I come over?” asked Michelle, Abraham’s wife. She stood on the driveway several yards away.

“No, just stay there,” he called dejectedly. “I don’t want you stepping on any glass.”

Abraham continued to pace around the scene. His old Pontiac, which he had driven close to a hundred thousand miles and was now for sale to anyone interested for ninety-five hundred dollars, rested on his front lawn. At least, most of it still rested on the front lawn.

“Should I call the police?” Michelle hollered.

Abraham bent down and picked up a large glass shard. A slash of white paint still clung to the jagged weapon. Abraham stood and looked at the damage.

The front windows had been shattered. Glass was scattered all over the front seats and the grass surrounding the car. The fabric inside was moist from the wetness of the night. The ninety-five hundred was vanishing in front of his eyes as he spotted each broken bit of window.

“I don’t know what they’d do,” he called back. He tossed the shard aside and heard it break as it hit the ground. “We don’t know what happened.”

***

Eddie knew he shouldn’t stand in the back of the truck as it hurled along Route Seven. He did it anyway.

It handled like a surfboard riding a crashing wave. The shuddering of the bed made his calfs vibrate with the adrenaline racing through his muscles. Tony had one arm out of the cab and the other on the wheel, screeching as the truck raced along.

“Getting enough moonbeams, Eddie?” Tony called.

“Might get a moonburn,” he replied. He could barely hear himself over the wind in his ears. The night was impossibly black. Tony kept his headlights off — “To add some tension, man!” — and let fate and bad ideas guide their path. Eddie watched as Tony leaned across the seat, taking his hand off the steering wheel.

“Giving in to your death wish?” Eddie screamed. He felt alive.

“Just getting something for you.” Tony sat back up and stuck his hand out the window once more. A rifle was clutched in his hand. The strap whipped in the racing wind.

“You shouldn’t have,” Eddie said as he grabbed the weapon. He almost fell over as they ran over a pothole. He steadied his legs and held the gun like a soldier. “Is this thing loaded?”

“Who knows?”

Eddie tossed his head back and opened his eyes as wide as the wind would let him. “Let’s find out!”

He grinned and looked through the scope and aimed towards the sky. Despite their remarks, there was nothing to break the darkness in the sky. He wished he had a star to target. Anything to give him a challenge.

It was as his finger tightened around the trigger that the truck swerved and Eddie lurched away from heaven and clenched his body for the collision with the rusted bed. The kickback almost made the gun fall out of the truck.

He didn’t hear the tinkle of breaking glass as they passed a darkened house. He only registered the snap of his pinkie.

“Watch where you’re driving, asshole,” swore Eddie through the pain. Tony waved him off and continued on into the gullet of darkness in front of them.

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Robert Gilchrist
The Assortment

Endeavoring to find a place that is both wonderful and strange, with people who won't mind reading my scribbles from time to time.