Slow Mo Snow.
You know those moments where time seems to slow to a crawl; on reflection you wander if there was more you could have done, but in the moment, despite time seemingly stopping, you find yourself stupefied with mong-like inaction. One such moment happened to me during the snow fall of this recent winter...

I'd walked to work, enjoying the crisp air and the crunch of snow underfoot while around me the mentally impaired ignored the blanket of white dung that littered the ground and attempted to make their usual journey; seemingly unaware that the world was far more slippery than it had been when they'd returned home the previous eve.

Along a particularly icy stretch a dim-witted cyclist skated hither and thither about the road, while an impatient buffoon drove close in their wake, ever eager to pass as though their life depended on it. As the cyclist slid past me gravity conspired with the ice and dragged them from their seat, causing the snarling motorist to suspend logic and stand firmly on their brakes.

It was at this point that the viewer switched to slow motion. Something about the faces in the scene grabbed their attention, and with good reason as we: the prone cyclist; the aggressive driver and your humble narrator, standing all too helplessly nearby, gurned uselessly at one another, tense and petrified about the seemingly inevitable meeting between heavy, solid car and soft, squashy person. The viewer must have found great amusement in our pathetic, snarling expressions as they slowed the image almost to a standstill; taunting us with snail-like speed yet knowing that we could do nothing to alter the chain of events already set in motion.

Fortune, however, beamed a sympathetic grin at the hapless peddle-pusher and the car gained sufficient purchase on the slippery surface to steer marginally aside and spare the lucky cyclist from a painful, heavy demise. Time returned to a normal tempo and the white noise that had filled my ears eased away leaving me pondering just how worthless I'd been during the past hour-long minute, while cyclist and car driver gingerly went about their day with augmented heart beats and no doubt soggy underwear.
( Moey, Fri 23 Apr 2010, 14:54, 2 replies)

good story
well written, sir.
( sanityclause is waiting until, Fri 23 Apr 2010, 15:39, closed)

Wel played sir, Well played.
Tip top use of the good old Queens English there.

Joly well done.
( DukeEuphoria Comes highly reccomended, Mon 26 Apr 2010, 15:52, closed)