Driving along the mountain road the motorist tries to maintain a steady speed. But the route is treacherous and the mud makes it hard keep a constant speed and to maintain grip. The driver struggles to keep the car on the road. The back-end kicks out and as the motorist attempts to compensate for this he loses control of the car and plummets over the edge into the forest below. Crashing through the canopy the car comes to a rest, suspended from the ground by a network of vines.
The tree canopy has long since repaired itself, once fresh branches enlisted to fill the gap that was opened up by the descending car. The car still hangs in the vines. Now it is an aging rust bucket, bits and pieces having dropped from it, clanging on the ground leaving the cars skeletal remains entangled in mid-air. As time has marched on the vines have infiltrated the car, pushing through the windows, boring through the radiator, constricting the engine and creeping through the dashboard overwhelming the interior. The underside has been permeated as well, vines crawling up the exhaust pipe and emerging through the wheel gaps.
This process has been watched by the bones of the driver resting on the forest floor.
Inspired in part by Richard Brautigan’s short story “Blackberry Motorist”. I had the image in my head and the first part is just an attempt at a back story. Also the second part, I feel it is lacking an end sentence. Feedback as always is welcomed.