The American Zone
“—Memoirs of Lucille G. Kropotkin There’s a problem with gullwing doors that I’d never thought about before: It’s kind of hard to get them open when the car’s lying on them, upside-down.
Maybe I never fully lost consciousness. I remembered counting at least four times that the little Neova had flipped ass over teakettle before it finally shuddered to a stop, but I’d missed something else, because we were now facing backward, the way we’d come. Whoever did the lawnwork on Greenway 200 was gonna b...e really annoyed with us. We’d bounced eight times, gouging out huge, ugly divots, then slid a long way, maybe a hundred yards, digging a long, curved furrow upward, exposing the underlying steel and concrete at the bottom of the ditch, onto the east-side berm.
I shouted, “Lucy!”
She hung next to me in her seat belt, unconscious beyond any doubt, a little blood trickling from her open mouth. It could have been from a serious internal injury, a split lip, or a broken tooth. For that matter, she might have bitten her tongue.MoreLess
Maybe I never fully lost consciousness. I remembered counting at least four times that the little Neova had flipped ass over teakettle before it finally shuddered to a stop, but I’d missed something else, because we were now facing backward, the way we’d come. Whoever did the lawnwork on Greenway 200 was gonna b...e really annoyed with us. We’d bounced eight times, gouging out huge, ugly divots, then slid a long way, maybe a hundred yards, digging a long, curved furrow upward, exposing the underlying steel and concrete at the bottom of the ditch, onto the east-side berm.
I shouted, “Lucy!”
She hung next to me in her seat belt, unconscious beyond any doubt, a little blood trickling from her open mouth. It could have been from a serious internal injury, a split lip, or a broken tooth. For that matter, she might have bitten her tongue.MoreLess
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