Anyway, now I'm in college and they want a written book report, which I've never done, about a book with no real plot or characters. How do you do that? I dunno, but I made it sound at least semi-intelligent by using big words in the right context, but there's no substance to the paper when you pay attention to it. It's literary technobabble.
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Boy, was he incensed.
Flash went speeding through town with a pronounced limp, which was a sight to see on its own, but the next was even more spectacular. He was just passing a construction site when the cables transporting an I-beam snapped. It was too quick even for him to see, especially with him being mad, hurt, and distracted as he was.
Any faster and it would have opened his skull like an egg. Instead, the corner of the I-beam caught him between the Achilles tendon and the lateral malleous of his already-injured left ankle, severing the bundle of nerves and vessels housed in that area. (7) Pain shot through his foot and up his calf muscle, settling in the popliteal region.
He audibly shuddered as he fell hard on the ground, annoying his already injured ribs. "Gah-!" he not-quite screamed and pulled his foot out from under the large metal stick. He continued to talk, nothing exactly a word, as a small panic set in. I suspected his calcaneous was fractured, but he had no time to think about that. Pain was clouding his vision, and he was loosing blood. It was slow but steady.
The angry flesh swelled up proudly around the new feature which was now interlaced with his spandex suit. Flash bit the inside of his cheek as he forced himself to apply pressure to the wound and arrest the blood flow. He hesitantly pressed his hand to his ankle and shuddered again as the pain shot back through, this time up into his back with a twinge following all the way up to his scalp. Stinging tears welled in his eyes and streaked down his face with a speed only he could rival.
With a few more hisses, Flash managed to staunch the flow. By this time, the wound and clot were hopelessly integrated with his costume. He wouldn't be taking it off any time soon. Wally walking around wearing Flash's shoe is a little noticeable.
"Hey!" cried a construction worker. "Quit touchin' our stuff!"
Flash rolled his eyes, but gave a friendly wave as he went to stand up. A wave of nausea hit him, and his stomach obediently emptied its contents. How well-behaved.
"Aw, that's just gross!" yelled the worker. It was all Flash could do not to wave an obscene gesture at the man. But he was thinking about it. Hard.
Gingerly, Flash took a step with his bad leg. No good. Not only could the ankle not hold his weight, something was off in his balance and back down he went. Standing up again, he wondered why he tried to take the first step with the bad leg. He grabbed a metal dowel and used it to help him get along.
"I said quit touchin' our stuff!" The large man hefted himself up and made his way toward the makeshift elevator. Flash figured he should skedaddle. Now didn't seem the best time to engage anyone in a fight, 'Even if I could whup his butt.'
As Flash hobbled along, the man reached the ground level. The construction worker bent over for air because he was winded, why not.
"Were you riding in that or pushing it?" Flash called back with a chuckle. The worker (Flash kind of assumed him to be the foreman) narrowed his eyes. "Right, don't heckle; no heckling," he reminded himself in a whisper as he quickened his pace.
Beaten, broken, swollen, and hurtin' like nobody's business, Flash was still faster than the foreman could have hoped to have been. He finally lost the larger man down a one-way street when he sidled up next to the wall of a building. Although a bright red and yellow spandex suit makes for not the best camouflage against a grey and concrete background, he still wasn't spotted. Flash heaved a sigh of relief and tried to catch his breath. That was a lot of moving for someone in his condition.
He was able to relax as he stumbled into the street, that is, until he heard a loud horn to his right. He looked up into the headlights of a speeding truck. Flash turned to go out of the street and saw an identical truck, this one also going way too fast, turn onto the street.
Flash dropped his stick as the second truck honked its horn.
"Well, damn."
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(7) I have heard this point referred to as the "aspirin point." Apparently it's supposed to relieve pain anywhere in the body. It's used by acupuncturists, so I'm pretty sure it doesn't include it being ripped open. I usually don't give my irony away, but that seemed a little too obscure.