THE ART OF FALLING
The ground rushed up to meet her, unforgiving.
Her head struck hard.
Darkness poured in like ink.
Somewhere far away, a car screeched to a halt.
A door slammed.
Footsteps.
Voices panicked, unfamiliar.
“Oh my God, call 911!”
“She’s not moving!”
“Don’t touch her, don't touch her!”
Nora didn’t hear them.
Didn’t feel the rain that had started to fall lightly, speckling the pavement with cold dots. Didn’t know blood was pooling beneath her, dark against the road.