The rain was pounding hard on Francis' back as he grasped the bleeding wound on his arm, shoulders shaking from the aftershock of the crash. He looked over his shoulder at the wreck in the foliage, and then turned his eyes to look from side to side. No cars were in sight in either direction. He sighed heavily and lowered his head. He was kneeling on the edge of the asphalt road out in the middle of nowhere, cell phone completely destroyed, and no one knew he was here. If things could hit rock bottom, this would be it.
He lifted a hand up to dab away blood from his brow, looking at the amount of red from pulling it away. He sighed again. This was not good. It was beyond manageable. He didn't know what to do now except wait. He looked at the blood seeping through his shirt sleeve and between his fingers. It didn't seem too bad, but he didn't know how severe the wound on his head was. He shook it slightly, and felt a little dizzy soon after.
The damn rain just wouldn't let up.
He didn't know how long he'd been there. He remembered coming to after the crash, and searching for his phone which was crushed and broken in half. He didn't know how long he'd been kneeling on the side of the road, though. He didn't know.
He sighed again. This was definitely not good.