A confusion of blaring, screeching, shouting, screaming – then a sickening thud.
He felt himself falling, turning, falling and everything slowed, strangely slowed, and the colours, the trees, the sky, the street, the people blurred, spread like watercolour on wet paper. He thought –How beautiful! And held the thought, falling into red.
Busy road. The man stood to cross, checking left, right. A careful man, unremarkable. Then a ball in the street, a boy chasing. The man stepped from the curb, crouched to seize the child about the waist and in one movement lifted and swung him back to safety. But…
The above was written for the Friday Fictioneers flash fiction forum curated by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The prompt: a motion-blurred photo of a bus, sky, a road, a tree. (See the photo prompt here.) If I have managed to do what I intended, you should be able to read the three paragraphs of the story in any sequence.