Description
"A hard surface caught his landing, drifting him into darkness, his eyes homing in on a black fuzz. Fractionally prior to losing consciousness, his hands had met the sun-softened ground and held his torso vertically aloft for a moment, in which he and the terror he was facing were frozen together in a pose almost beautiful as he gazed down at the earth. The speed at which he had toppled and the opposing force of the careening, chromed vehicle that glimmered messages at God from its bonnet in the blazing sun, gave a little too much responsibility to his hands, and as a result, he was barely able to restrict the force with which his mouth hit the ground." —Michae Salu, A Movement in Chrome Primitive.
https://www.picciolettabarca.com/posts/a-movement-in-chrome-primitive