A Colorless Flash
By Shannon Mackey
The clock keeps ticking the night away, and I can’t sleep. For many weeks I have been striving to stay awake.
Dreams have become too much of a strain on my mind. Now the desire to stay awake is minuscule, but my body
refuses to shut down. I decide to go for a walk.
I put on my headphones and begin dancing down the street. I am downtown and the buildings tower over me. I feel
lost, but safe, on the cracked sidewalks of the city’s blocks. I pass bar after bar. I glance at the people drinking
inside, smiling. I beat my fists against the air. Music blares into my ears, deafening me. I feel so alive. I stop at a
corner and wait for a break in traffic. I shake my legs to the drum line pounding in my head. I wait for my signal to
cross. A little white man lights up telling me to continue on. I step out into the crosswalk. I bounce my head to the
bass and pass the median. I look up. My heart stops.
Everything around me seems to move so slowly, as if my brain doesn’t know what to make my body do. It stops
everything else in the world from happening. I’m confused. All that really exists now is me. I’m all I seem to know. I
notice a car heading towards me, traveling down the wrong side of the street. I can’t hear anything. I have my head
phones on, but I can’t even hear my music. My legs stop moving. I stare at the car’s back tires; they’re sliding. It is
just a few feet away from me. I don’t move. I am in the middle of the crosswalk. I don’t move. I can’t move. I just
stand there watching what soon is to be the cause of my death. It is coming for me.
I look around. I am able to look. I can’t move, but I can still look. Time has slowed. I clearly see the faces of the
people in the cars that are waiting patiently at the red light. I see three people gasping at the bus stop, pointing at
me. Their hands are just up in the air, pointing. I look back at the car. I know it’s moving very fast; but it’s just
inching towards me. I think of nothing. Not a single thought is going through my mind. I look back at the tires. They’
re still skidding. I’m still standing motionless in the crosswalk. I look up at the driver. I see the fear in his eyes. I can
see his hands holding tightly onto the steering wheel. There is a police car behind him, lights flashing.
A red flash.
“Jed, how do you feel about me?” my quivering voice asked. My palms were sweaty. I never put myself out on the
line.
“Miss Jacqueline Pearl, darling, you are my lady.” The words danced out of his mouth.
A blue flash.
With my head tilted down, I looked at him through the very tops of my eyes. “Jed, I love you. I want to spend the
rest of my life with you. I don’t want things to go sour between us.” I said with a slight hesitation.
A white flash.
He placed his hand on my chin and gently tilted my face up. He looked me directly in the eyes and said, “Darling, I
could never let things get bad with you. We, my dear, we are better than that.”
A white flash.
“Jacqueline, I love you.”
A colorless flash.
He put his arm around my waist and pulled me close to him.
A colorless flash.
He gently kissed my forehead. Everything remained beautiful.
A colorless flash. I see the car heading towards me. A colorless flash. A colorless flash.
Shannon Mackey lives in Chattanooga, Tennessee on the edge of reality. Outward silence and voiceless
conversations motivate her to write pieces that push the limits of sanity. She breaks literary rules with her self-
created style. Her work is featured in Lip Magazine, Blog of Sound, and firehow.com
By Shannon Mackey
The clock keeps ticking the night away, and I can’t sleep. For many weeks I have been striving to stay awake.
Dreams have become too much of a strain on my mind. Now the desire to stay awake is minuscule, but my body
refuses to shut down. I decide to go for a walk.
I put on my headphones and begin dancing down the street. I am downtown and the buildings tower over me. I feel
lost, but safe, on the cracked sidewalks of the city’s blocks. I pass bar after bar. I glance at the people drinking
inside, smiling. I beat my fists against the air. Music blares into my ears, deafening me. I feel so alive. I stop at a
corner and wait for a break in traffic. I shake my legs to the drum line pounding in my head. I wait for my signal to
cross. A little white man lights up telling me to continue on. I step out into the crosswalk. I bounce my head to the
bass and pass the median. I look up. My heart stops.
Everything around me seems to move so slowly, as if my brain doesn’t know what to make my body do. It stops
everything else in the world from happening. I’m confused. All that really exists now is me. I’m all I seem to know. I
notice a car heading towards me, traveling down the wrong side of the street. I can’t hear anything. I have my head
phones on, but I can’t even hear my music. My legs stop moving. I stare at the car’s back tires; they’re sliding. It is
just a few feet away from me. I don’t move. I am in the middle of the crosswalk. I don’t move. I can’t move. I just
stand there watching what soon is to be the cause of my death. It is coming for me.
I look around. I am able to look. I can’t move, but I can still look. Time has slowed. I clearly see the faces of the
people in the cars that are waiting patiently at the red light. I see three people gasping at the bus stop, pointing at
me. Their hands are just up in the air, pointing. I look back at the car. I know it’s moving very fast; but it’s just
inching towards me. I think of nothing. Not a single thought is going through my mind. I look back at the tires. They’
re still skidding. I’m still standing motionless in the crosswalk. I look up at the driver. I see the fear in his eyes. I can
see his hands holding tightly onto the steering wheel. There is a police car behind him, lights flashing.
A red flash.
“Jed, how do you feel about me?” my quivering voice asked. My palms were sweaty. I never put myself out on the
line.
“Miss Jacqueline Pearl, darling, you are my lady.” The words danced out of his mouth.
A blue flash.
With my head tilted down, I looked at him through the very tops of my eyes. “Jed, I love you. I want to spend the
rest of my life with you. I don’t want things to go sour between us.” I said with a slight hesitation.
A white flash.
He placed his hand on my chin and gently tilted my face up. He looked me directly in the eyes and said, “Darling, I
could never let things get bad with you. We, my dear, we are better than that.”
A white flash.
“Jacqueline, I love you.”
A colorless flash.
He put his arm around my waist and pulled me close to him.
A colorless flash.
He gently kissed my forehead. Everything remained beautiful.
A colorless flash. I see the car heading towards me. A colorless flash. A colorless flash.
Shannon Mackey lives in Chattanooga, Tennessee on the edge of reality. Outward silence and voiceless
conversations motivate her to write pieces that push the limits of sanity. She breaks literary rules with her self-
created style. Her work is featured in Lip Magazine, Blog of Sound, and firehow.com
New Hampshire Writers Flash Fiction
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