By J Arend
Quiet. Like it is every day before he puts in his hearing aids—when he bothers to, that is. Another reason to sulk: losing his hearing at the age of independence, when life starts. He’s twenty now, still waking up wondering why his alarm didn’t go off, only to be reminded of what happened. A car crash a year, seven months, and three days ago.
His parents were driving him to college. A quiet ride. Until it wasn’t. When the coroners arrived, he couldn’t hear what they said. He could only see the ambulance lights and the bodies being bagged up.
I like how the writer drew me into this story. I liked reading a perspective different from the norm. I long for a bit more the world after the accident and details to let me know why this particular day is the end of a story. I like how this writer thinks and I look forward to reading more of their work.
Just unbelievable Jenna. You are a gift!! Love you, Uncle Lippy
What an amazing story! So succinct and yet so emotionally rich. Not to mention such crisp and beautifully-constructed prose. Brava!
This is a shocking story, very well told.
wow so powerful!!!
So much in such a short story. Wonderful work.
New cousin Jenna. This was so profound I loved it
I am pressed with the story plot and its unique presentation. Well done J.