My palms still sweat as a side effect.
It happened seven years ago.
Scars on the back of my right hand and one on the knee.
I keep the sweatshirt I wore even though it has a hole.
I didn’t get to see my grandmother one last time before she died.
One night in the hospital, no stitches, and a pile of tests. No broken neck or knee. .
One fire truck, one ambulance. A stack of cop cars and civilians trying to help.
The car spun and rolled.
My friend was the driver, she looked down at her cell phone, headed straight for the guardrail.
I didn’t think I was going to die, I knew I was going to die. And in a way, I felt ready.
A few weeks ago my friend and I went to a park, a beautiful spot off the Potomac in Alexandria, Virginia. We sat on a bench, and he pulled out a book of writing prompts. The one I just did above is to tell about an accident or injury, but backwards. I noticed things I never had before. Think of your MC and something traumatic they’ve gone through or will go through. Now tell it backwards. What details do you notice then?