ForceNet

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The rain is hammering down, I am soaking wet, and vaguely aware of the drips running down my neck and seeping in to my shirt collar. As I lie on the grass verge my eyes become accustomed to a darkness that is only slightly relieved by the young moon, and slowly, I regain a sense of my surroundings and what has happened. Looking down I see that my right jacket sleeve is torn, and wiping my forehead I see the smear of blood on the back of my hand. It's not only rain that is giving me that trickling sensation on the forehead.

I need to get up bu t feel stiff, and looking down see that I am covered in mud and that my left trouser leg is torn, almost shredded. On my feet I am unsteady but I turn around; below, down the slope, away from the road I can make out the remains of two cars. Mine, a silver Range Rover upside down with the engine still running, the exhaust fumes puffing out of the tail pipe, and to the left a blue Volvo estate car on its side with it's badly crushed nose half way up the base of a large tree.

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