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Post  LEit on Tue Sep 21, 2010 12:09 pm

It felt like tumbling, like I was in a washing machine looking through the door, watching the palm trees and that rusted iron gate to the beach in front of me spin around and around. Then I was lying on the street, stretched out over the black pavement with my back pack still on my shoulders. Only then did the mind-numbing pain set in. I could see that people were screaming and crying above me, I probably was too, but I could hear none of it over the ear-splitting ringing in my head. I couldn’t move to see what my leg looked like, but I could most surely tell it was broken. My mother had wrapped a green beach towel around my leg, but it slowly dyed itself red. I know everyone was worried about me, but too afraid to touch me to find out if I was ok. People tried to move me, but I couldn’t help. My muscles were frozen, locked to the asphalt. The ambulance came and technicians rushed around me. I could see them trying to look for other problems aside from the obvious leg injury. I wish I could have told them that I was fine, other than my leg, but my voice was hoarse and screaming. I heard them say that they needed to get the backpack off of my back and with a concentrated force of will I managed to move my arm through the backpack strap with a small, slow movement.


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Post  cbehling on Tue Sep 21, 2010 2:34 pm

Your imagery of the surrounding is very good a the beginning. the sense of tumbling is real. The fact you were falling was unclear until you made it clear you had hit the ground. However, the imagery of your inner struggle is very vivid. Its scary, and interesting. I would love to read more.


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Post  MrX on Tue Sep 21, 2010 4:11 pm

Your description of the crowd is vivid and descriptive. I felt as if my ears were ringing with the noise from the screams of the onlookers. The sense of tumbling at the beginning is a great hook as I questioned whether you were in a tornado, rolling down a hill, or ricocheting off an object. Great use of sight to describe how you came to realize that you were bleeding. Great job!


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Post  MaryShelley on Fri Sep 24, 2010 12:16 am

yes, I love the intensity of this writing. It's visceral, physical, alive. I do want more. I'd like to know how it happened and what meaning it has for you now, in retrospect. You certainly put me in the moment.


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