Write On Edge: Collision Challenge

Red Writing Hood gives us 400 words this week for a collision.

The general population views a collision as a type of accident: cars colliding in an intersection, airplanes colliding in mid-air, students colliding in a hallway, a toddler’s backside colliding with the living room floor. Thunder is nothing more than parts of air colliding after a lightning strike creates a vacuum. The scientific definition of collision is an isolated event where two or more moving objects/bodies/things exert forces on each other for a short time. There's a series of complicated looking math problems to illustrate this, involving mass and velocity. I however, am not a mathematician. Instead, imagine a cat silently slinking across the grass. Each step is classified as a collision, paw vs. blades of grass.

So a collision could be silent or even invisible. 

From a literary standpoint, the collision possibilities are endless. A collision of cultures, for example, could provide excellent opportunity for tension and conflict.

Or if the forces in that isolated event embodied the heart of good and evil...of angels and demons...


I offer the following in response: Gillian's Dilemma 

Gillian cowered on the tiny balcony while her parents hurled vile names at each other in the hotel room. Escape was not an option this time. They were miles away from the familiarity of her hometown and six floors up. Trapped, she sobbed until she was void of tears and then stared at the night-sky seeking answers among the stars.

“Never you mind your parents, Dearie,” a woman sporting a white, fuzzy bathrobe leaned over the railing of the adjacent balcony.

How long had she been standing there? Gillian felt light-headed and only nodded. She didn’t have the heart to tell her to get lost.

A young man with bright, red hair and a warm smile appeared on the other balcony. “Angela, you’re sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong,” he said, pointing at the bathrobed woman with a fat cigar. “I must apologize for her behavior, Gillian.”

Gillian glanced at him sharply, “Do I know you?”

His smile didn’t wane.

Angela cackled a laugh, “Now who’s interfering Samiel? Dearie, he heard your name as I did from your parents’ caterwauling. The walls in this place aren’t exactly soundproof.”

Gillian did her best to ignore them all, cinching her arms tightly about her waist. Eventually, she realized they hadn’t moved, but she no longer cared. Inside, the arguing reached a fevered pitch.

“Now, Dearie, things sound like they’re getting bad. Why don’t you climb over, and I’ll fix you a cup of chamomile tea.” Angela offered in an ethereal voice.

“Tea? Angela really, bribing a girl with tea while her life is crumbling about her. She needs to blow off steam. I’ll take you to the penthouse club, buy you a drink.”

“I’m only fourteen,” she announced curtly.

He shrugged, still smiling. “It’s only a drink. The bartender won’t even question your age. Trust me.”

Gillian peered through the sliding glass window at her feuding parents. She was weary of the fight and desperately wanted to be someplace peaceful. She turned from Samiel, “Thank you, Angela. Tea sounds nice.”

Angela helped her over the railing, “I trust you’ll leave her alone now, Samiel?”

Samiel lost his smile. “Well played. Give my regards to the Man Upstairs.”

Gillian was about to ask what he meant when she noticed a soft halo of golden light around Angela. For a split second, heaven kissed the earth and Gillian knew Peace.