God drives a 68 Cutlass Supreme

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It was as if time had elapsed and the only thing the world was running on gasoline; and the only time left was in my tank; and I was burning through it fast. The engine was worn, I could tell by the sounds it made as I pushed it harder and harder; I couldn’t tell if it was going to break from age, or if I was trying to break it. Again and again it fired in a constant cycle, draining my tank and propelling the tires down that much more pavement. Reality spanned out from the tires as friction tore tiny bits from them. I didn’t dare look back into my rear view mirror, but I knew they were blossoming into space, time and everything that is history; the view was too tempting, so I tore my mirror down, who cares what’s behind.
The car cut into the uncertainty that is the future, headlights acting like a fortune teller; sure, but not certain. The only thing that connected me to reality was my fingers tight grip around the steering wheel and my foot, mashed to the floor board of the car. Did it ever occur to slow down? No. I honestly had no clue if the breaks worked. I had found the car on the side of the road, as if someone driving it and it simply came to a rest, they got out, and left the car to the next passerby.
The car was old. Its dash was cracked as if it had been left out in the sun for years. The paint was peeling off and the weather showed its efficiency from the large amount of rust on the naked body. Years of running constantly and the wear of the world around it had worn the car down, making it unrecognizable to the beauty it once was; yet it still ran hard and strong The leather beneath my legs was scratchy, having conformed to someone else a long time ago; leaving me with a constant sense of discomfort and misplacement. All the glass in the car was cracked by the constant barrage of rocks that flew from the darkness of uncertainty at the car as it spearheaded life. I peeled my hand away from the steering wheel and grasped the stick-shift between my fingers. In one swift moment I pulled off the gas, slammed on to the clutch, threw the car in to 6th, and rammed my foot back on to the gas, pushing the car as far as it can go; not once did I hesitate.
I cannot lie, I did look back once, but only for a moment, because for a second, only the slightest moment, did I actually car about what the past held; I realized then that the only way is to continue in drive, leaving it all behind.
The gas light blinked ominously, reminding me that soon my joy-ride would end; I wasn’t sure if the car, or I, would give out first. Coughing loudly, the engine sucked the last bit of fumes from the tank, and slowly it began to fall. Everything began to slow, the universe ceased its expansion, the earth came to a screeching halt, people froze mid-stride, animal’s jaws lay open, a moment from its prey’s head; all stopped as the car did. My foot didn’t move from the gas pedal; I didn’t dare touch the break; I just slowly let it roll to a stop. The headlights were the only thing keeping everything from fading into the unknown, but then, they flashed and died, leaving me, and everyone, in the dark. It couldn’t end like this, it wasn’t all really over? Are we all simply doomed to a motionless drift into absolution? It couldn’t end like this. I peeled my hands from the steering wheel, tearing the topmost layer of my skin off as I did. I pulled my shoes from my feet, leaving them fused to the gas pedal and floorboard. Reaching down, I released the seat belt opening my lungs to the stagnant, dry air. The door opened smoothly, as if it had only been opened a few times. I clamored out of the car and out in to the dark surroundings. I rose and realized I had become an old man; time in the car had frozen, but suddenly my body caught up with my mind, stretching my skin and sinking my eyes.
I, an old man, stood and decided to do something none of the previous owners had ever done. Desperate to continue, I got out and pushed.

S.S.




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Wow, this is great! I love your imagery and your metaphors. However one semantical thing I'd like it criticize is your use of the semicolon. They're great, but in a lot of cases here, they're used incorrectly. A semicolon is used to separate two related, but independent clauses, which means that the two things that you're connecting with a semicolon are two complete sentences.

For example:
It was as if time had elapsed and the only thing the world was running on gasoline; and the only time left was in my tank; and I was burning through it fast.

So, what you have here is pretty much a run on sentence with a bunch of semicolons thrown in. One way you can see if you can use a semicolon is by seeing if you put a period instead, if it would still work grammatically.

With periods:
It was as if time had elapsed and the only thing the world was running on gasoline. And the only time left was in my tank. And I was burning through it fast.

Clearly, it's not quite right. We can fix it up by omitting some of your 'ands':

It was as if time had elapsed and the only thing the world was running on gasoline; the only time left was in my tank, and I was burning through it fast.


Other stuff:
I didn’t dare look back into my rear view mirror, but I knew they were blossoming into space, time and everything that is history; the view was too tempting, so I tore my mirror down, who cares what’s behind.

You should really say what "they" are in this sentence 'cause it's a bit confusing. Another thing, is that the sentence after the semicolon is a bit of a runon. Better as:
I didn’t dare look back into my rear view mirror, because? I knew they were blossoming into space, time and everything that is history; the view was too tempting, so I tore my mirror down. Who cares what’s behind?


Spelling error:
I honestly had no clue if the brakes worked.
"Study hard what interests you the most in the most undisciplined, irreverent and original manner possible."
— Richard P. Feynman




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One of the better things I have ever read on this site. Excellent, excellent stuff. The title caught my eye immediately and the story that followed did not betray my expectations. The thing works as a whole, at no point did my attention wane. I consider something like this the quintessence of writing.

The ending was fantastic. I'm almost jealous that I didn't write this. :)

Namaste
"Is", "is." "is" — the idiocy of the word haunts me. If it were abolished, human thought might begin to make sense. I don't know what anything "is"; I only know how it seems to me at this moment. -Robert Anton Wilson




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The first paragraph was able to catch my eye without much trouble at all. Very disriptive work. I am a very visual person and I enjoyed this. Nevertheless, try to lay off the semicolons. I always use them when two sentences carry on or describe somthing in more depth (if you get what I mean). Other than that, and what your other reviews commented, Great job.
Ride and never worry about the fall,
Guess that's just the cowboy in us all!




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Hello!

Being a car freak myself, your title caught my attention. I agree with A.C.; the semi-colons seem to break it up a bit much. Other than that, there was only a few nitpicks I caught:

I cannot lie, I did look back once, but only for a moment, because for a second, only the slightest moment, did I actually car about what the past held; I realized then that the only way is to continue in drive, leaving it all behind.


I think you should break this up. Also, there was a typo: "car" should be "care". But, try:
I cannot lie, I did look back once. But only for a moment, because for a second -only the slightest moment - did I actually care about what the past held; I realized then that the only way is to continue in drive, leaving it all behind.

Also, that one line is very insightful.

It couldn’t end like this, it wasn’t all really over?

I don't like that question mark in there... why not It couldn't end like this. Was it really over?

I, an old man, stood and decided to do something none of the previous owners had ever done. Desperate to continue, I got out and pushed.


I love it. Great job!

- A



A wizard is never late. Nor is he early; he arrives precisely when he means to.
— Gandalf