A Moment of Absent Mindedness (Short story)

[nickjpass]

A Moment of Absent Mindedness

This is a small story I wrote. It would be nice if you guys gave me your opinions! If you guys could proofread it, I'd be very grateful!
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“Shoot” said Gabriel he had missed his turn, and had to drive a few miles further now. Riding down Van Vorst Ave, Gabriel was on his way to work. Work, he thought, a place of eternal suffering, and boredom. As he rode down the short street, his blue Kawasaki sport bike over exaggerated every bump and pothole in the road and mad a racket each time it drove over one.
His hands fumbled as he tried to switch into a higher gear. He shook his head side to side at his lack of coordination. He looked at the road for a few moments, and then at the motorcycle’s gauges and read the odometer. Five thousand and seven miles, “I’ve come a long way since I got this bike” he thought. He began to drum with his fingers against the fuel tank, leaving the handlebars unattended. He adored drumming and was trying to relieve his frustration. Gabriel passed another intersection.

“Two more blocks” he said. He looked at the intersection where he would turn right. He scanned it from afar. He looked at the stop lights. They were red. A black SUV and one black car, and another green one were lined up waiting to cross the small intersection. He grunted at the fact that there were no cars crossing the intersection, and thought that the three vehicles lined up at the intersection were losing time. He laughed, “I can just move up in front of them!” he shouted inside his helmet. He looked at the watch on his left wrist; it was now seven forty-eight. He placed his hands back on the handlebars. He had lost two minutes taking the detour. He looked at the road again; the cars had now begun to move from the intersection.

Gabriel had a quarter mile left until he was going to approach the intersection. He wanted to at least gain back a few minutes. He looked at his gauge cluster, and he was already going seven miles per hour over the speed limit. Gabriel opened up the throttle a bit more, which increased his speed to fifty miles per hour. He laughed at the incredible power of the cycle.

His cycle was going twenty miles per hour over the limit. He hoped there weren’t any patrol officers anywhere. He had gotten pulled over a few times before. He didn’t enjoy getting fined or getting points on his record. Gabriel was approaching the intersection. He could look down the cross street and saw no cars. The stop light turned yellow. He glanced at his clock…it read seven fifty. He couldn’t be late. He hated being late to work. He decided that he would run the red light and thought to himself “No cars, no police…its safe”. He opened the throttle completely.

The engine roared and the cycle began to rapidly increase the speed. Gabriel tucked in and he began to read the speedometer. The needle climbed incredibly fast and it read seventy, eighty, and then one hundred miles per hour. He changed gears and his arms began to shake as his adrenaline began to rush. The bike began to cross the small intersection. He took another look at the speedometer; it read one hundred and twenty miles per hour.

He opened his eyes. His eyes panned left, then right. His vision was blurry. “What happened” he though. His legs felt like a five hundred pound block lead block was laying on them. “What’s going on!” he yelled. His vision began to come back. He smelled gasoline, and felt a warm liquid running down his leg on his right thigh. He realized his motorcycle was lying on top of his legs. It looked deformed and destroyed. He smelled burning rubber now. “I was hit by a car” he thought. Gabriel began to feel a throbbing pain in his right thigh. It grew in strength and turned into a constant pain. His leg felt like someone had stabbed and he didn’t want to look down at it.

He tried to figure out where he was. Gabriel realized he was in the middle of the intersection, propped up against what he though was a curb. He grinded his teeth at the increasing pain. He knew he needed help. His dilated blue eyes panned onto the middle of the intersection. Two short, dark black lines crossed the intersection. A tan piece of plastic sat by a curb across from him, he assumed it was a bumper. Glass peppered the road and glistened as the sun’s rays began to shine onto the road. He scanned the road again, and looked at the tan plastic closer. It was partially red. “Blood” he thought. He knew that it was his.

He decided he would look at his leg. He looked down. His eyes focused slowly, and he began to see a pool of blood, mixed with gasoline, and then a bone that he knew was his femur. It had been completely broken, and penetrated his skin. The pain increased more and more as the adrenaline began to where off. He saw blue and red lights, police. He smiled, and was never so happy to see a police officer. As it began to approach him, he saw more flashing lights, fire trucks and an ambulance.

“How did they know I crashed” he thought. “No one lives here. I didn’t see anyone” he said to himself. The emergency team began to approach him. The police car was the first to arrive. It was a state trooper. He looked at the car; it was tan, and missing a piece of its bumper. He realized he was hit by a police vehicle crossing the intersection. He saw a boot stuck in the vehicles hood. Blood spattered the part of a windshield that was still on the vehicle.

The police officer left his car, and began to walk casually to the motorcyclist. He stopped by the motorcycle. He looked at the motorcycle and Gabriel. The police officer opened his mouth, and said “You’re crazy”.

Written by NJP (nickjpass).

[nickjpass]

A new version of the story.

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A Moment of Absent Mindedness

“Shoot” said Gabriel had missed his turn, and had to drive a few miles further now. Riding down Van Vorst Ave, Gabriel was on his way to work. Work, he thought, a place of eternal suffering, and boredom. As he rode down the short street, his blue Kawasaki sport bike over exaggerated every bump and pothole in the road and mad a racket each time it drove over one.
His hands fumbled as he tried to switch into a higher gear. He shook his head side to side at his lack of coordination. He looked at the road for a few moments, and then at the motorcycle’s gauges and read the odometer. Five thousand and seven miles, “I’ve come a long way since I got this bike” he thought. He began to drum with his fingers against the fuel tank, leaving the handlebars unattended. He adored drumming and was trying to relieve his frustration. Gabriel passed another intersection.

“Two more blocks” he said. He looked at the intersection where he would turn right. He scanned it from afar. He looked at the stop lights. They were red. A black SUV and one black car, and another green one were lined up waiting to cross the small intersection. He grunted at the fact that there were no cars crossing the intersection, and thought that the three vehicles lined up at the intersection were losing time. He laughed, “I can just move up in front of them!” he shouted inside his helmet. He looked at the watch on his left wrist; it was now seven forty-eight. He placed his hands back on the handlebars. He had lost two minutes taking the detour. He looked at the road again; the cars had now begun to move from the intersection.

Gabriel had a quarter mile left until he was going to approach the intersection. He wanted to at least gain back a few minutes. He looked at his gauge cluster, and he was already going seven miles per hour over the speed limit. Gabriel opened up the throttle a bit more, which increased his speed to fifty miles per hour. He laughed at the incredible power of the cycle.

His cycle was going twenty miles per hour over the limit. He hoped there weren’t any patrol officers anywhere. He had gotten pulled over a few times before. He didn’t enjoy getting fined or getting points on his record. Gabriel was approaching the intersection. He could look down the cross street and saw no cars. The stop light turned yellow. He glanced at his clock…it read seven fifty. He couldn’t be late. He hated being late to work. He decided that he would run the red light and thought to himself “No cars, no police…its safe”. He opened the throttle completely.

The engine roared and the cycle began to rapidly increase the speed. Gabriel tucked in and he began to read the speedometer. The needle climbed incredibly fast and it read seventy, eighty, and then one hundred miles per hour. He changed gears and his arms began to shake as his adrenaline began to rush. The bike began to cross the small intersection. He took another look at the speedometer; it read one hundred and twenty miles per hour.

He opened his eyes. His eyes panned left, then right. His vision was blurry. “What happened” he though. His legs felt like a five hundred pound block lead block was laying on them. “What’s going on!” he yelled. His vision began to come back. He smelled gasoline, and felt a warm liquid running down his leg on his right thigh. He realized his motorcycle was lying on top of his legs. It looked deformed and destroyed. He smelled burning rubber now. “I was hit by a car” he thought. Gabriel began to feel a throbbing pain in his right thigh. It grew in strength and turned into a constant pain. His leg felt like someone had stabbed and he didn’t want to look down at it.

He tried to figure out where he was. Gabriel realized he was in the middle of the intersection, propped up against what he though was a curb. He grinded his teeth at the increasing pain. He knew he needed help. His dilated blue eyes panned onto the middle of the intersection. Two short, dark black lines crossed the intersection. A tan piece of plastic sat by a curb across from him, he assumed it was a bumper. Glass peppered the road and glistened as the sun’s rays began to shine onto the road. He scanned the road again, and looked at the tan plastic closer. It was partially red. “Blood” he thought. He knew that it was his.

He decided he would look at his leg. He looked down. His eyes focused slowly, and he began to see a pool of blood, mixed with gasoline, and then a bone that he knew was his femur. It had been completely broken, and penetrated his skin. The pain increased more and more as the adrenaline began to where off. He saw blue and red lights, police. He smiled, and was never so happy to see a police officer. As it began to approach him, he saw more flashing lights, fire trucks and an ambulance.

“How did they know I crashed” he thought. “No one lives here. I didn’t see anyone” he said to himself. The emergency team began to approach him. The police car was the first to arrive. It was a state trooper. He looked at the car; it was tan, and missing a piece of its bumper. He realized he was hit by a police vehicle crossing the intersection. He saw a boot stuck in the vehicles hood. Blood spattered the part of a windshield that was still on the vehicle.

The police officer left his car, and began to walk casually to the motorcyclist. He stopped by the motorcycle. He looked at the motorcycle and Gabriel. The police officer opened his mouth, and said “You’re crazy”. He began to inspect how the motorcycle was lying on Gabriel’s legs. It had fallen on his right leg, and had pinned him down. A large dent in the gas tank resulted in a small hole, where the fuel was leaking from. The danger of the motorcycle lighting on fire had clouded Gabriel’s mind.

All the emergency vehicles had now been parked. They were parked next to the officer’s vehicle with there rear ends of the car facing the location of the accident. Fireman ran over, and inspected the situation as well. A fireman grabbed the left side of the handlebars. Another rapped his arms around the rear section of the motorcycle. “1, 2, 3” said the fireman as they lifted the motorcycle simultaneously.

As the weight of the motorcycle lifted off his battered legs, he felt a bittersweet feeling of relief and the agonizing pain. The men rolled the motorcycle away, it’s deformed rim created something like a limp. They pushed it to the other side of the road.

[Alex]

/merged

[alex.s]

Tl; dr


for serious though...
what kind of mods did Gabriel have to his 250 to make it go 120?

[nickjpass]

Originally Posted by alex.s

Tl; dr


for serious though...
what kind of mods did Gabriel have to his 250 to make it go 120?

Wasn't a 250r. I just made it a motorcycle so his bone would pop out easier

It's for English class...what do you think?

Story isn't done yet.

[nickjpass]

Originally Posted by CynicalC

Needs to be more engaging. For example, instead of:

You could make it:


for more of an effect.

Thanks! The beginning was confusing me. I guess I didn't do it right!

[CynicalC]

Originally Posted by nickjpass

Thanks! The beginning was confusing me. I guess I didn't do it right!

More importantly, you need to go over it for spelling and grammar errors.

[nickjpass]

Originally Posted by CynicalC

More importantly, you need to go over it for spelling and grammar errors.

I did my best. I will go over it a few more times.

[Honko]

More homework?

[Lil_Green_Demon]

Originally Posted by nickjpass

I did my best. I will go over it a few more times.

No offense but your "best" sucks.

I'm not an English Nazi, but I do think you need to look this through entirely. You're making simple mistakes, such as not leaving a comma after each quotation.

For instance:

“Shoot” said Gabriel had missed his turn,

Should read:

“Shoot,” said Gabriel had missed his turn,

What's "said Gabriel had missed his turn?" That's a sentence fragment. The "had missed his turn" does not fit in with "said Gabriel."

Also, pretty much every sentence starts with "He." You need to change that. It makes the story seem repetitive.

Good luck with this assignment.

[nickjpass]

Originally Posted by Lil_Green_Demon

No offense but your "best" sucks.

I'm not an English Nazi, but I do think you need to look this through entirely. You're making simple mistakes, such as not leaving a comma after each quotation.

For instance:



Should read:



What's "said Gabriel had missed his turn?" That's a sentence fragment. The "had missed his turn" does not fit in with "said Gabriel."

Also, pretty much every sentence starts with "He." You need to change that. It makes the story seem repetitive.

Good luck with this assignment.

I haven't even proof read it once. What do you expect from me when I haven't slept for 2 days?