#the wrong man

📽 1956: The Wrong Man is a American docudrama film noir directed by Alfred Hitchcock and starring Henry Fonda and Vera Miles. It is Based onThe True Story of Christopher Emmanuel Balestrero

• Christopher Emmanuel "Manny" Balestrero (Fonda), a down-on-his-luck musician at New York City's Stork Club, needs $300 for dental work for his wife Rose (Miles). When he visits the office of a life insurance company to borrow money against Rose's policy, he is mistaken by the staff for a man who had held them up twice.

Thank you @dynamicducks and @junoswritingpit for the tags!

Rules: You flip through your work (published or WIP, doesn't matter) and share whatever little section you are genuinely proud of. Something that makes you smile or swoon or that tugs at your heartstrings just the way you want it to.

I've got two things for two prompts! So I guess we'll start with the Self Care Someday. Back in 2021 I was working overnight 12 hour shifts at my job and ended up writing like 4 chapters of an Isekai RDR2 fanfiction. I actually posted some of this to ff.net, but I had started going back to college then (pre ADHD medication) and never found the time to focus on it again. I remember being really proud of this at the time, but looking back it could have definitely used some work, haha!

Content Warning: 18-wheeler x Car crash, blood, death

The sun was shining right into my eyes as I pressed on the gas to reach the speed limit. When I made it into the flow of traffic, I found myself behind a large box truck. It was kicking up debris from the road and throwing it each and every way as it barreled down the street. Suddenly a rather large rock hit my windshield and left a huge, splintering crack in the glass that sat in front of me. Well that’s a pisser, I thought to myself as I continued down the road. The crack was making the glare from the sun ten times worse, as it was now shooting sunbeams in different directions all in front of me. I could still see, but barely, I thought I could still make it to the store without any issues… …  …I was wrong. You see, what I didn't realize was that the box truck that was in front of me had barely made it past a yellow light that I couldn’t see. I had just passed the large white line meant for keeping cars from running red lights when the blaring of a deep horn could be heard to my left. I was in the middle of the intersection when I slammed on my breaks. My head had turned to look towards the honking of the horn and that’s when I saw the headlights. I knew it was one of those big trucks with eighteen large wheels, as the headlights came up past eye-level, and I was underneath it. I couldn’t feel my legs, or any part of me for that matter. I wasn’t panicking though, which I knew wasn’t right. My left hand was crushed between the steering wheel and the door, fingers lacerated with the shattered glass shards from my driver’s side window. The space in front of me where my legs should have been, all I could see was a me-sized tire.  The blood had started to run from the top and sides of my head. I could hear the ringing in my ears getting deafeningly loud. I could see the sides of my nose covered in drippings of blood, covering the splattering of freckles that rested upon my face. I looked down at my nice, light-wash jeans and noticed they were stained a dark red color from my waist down. I tried to speak and it left a stinging pain in the front of my throat. My cries for help weren’t going to be heard that day. My neck had been cut open from the seatbelt holding me in. That also explains the blood in my lap, the waist belt had got me there too. You have to admit, it’s kinda funny though, the one thing that everyone said would keep me safe did the most harm. The warmth is what got me though. It felt comforting, like it was beckoning me to just let go. I couldn’t close my eyes, despite the blood from my brow blinding me, but it didn’t matter at that moment. My breathing slowed as I calmed. Blinded, bloodied, and bound yet I was calm. The vision in my eyes slowly faded from a deep red to a soothing gray and finally the darkness felt as if it was surrounding me entirely. No pain, no tears, no worries, just darkness.

Now for the WIP Whenever. I have really gotten into this Gortash fixation (curse you Gortits whores, you know who you are) and Chapter 3 for A Dowry of Smoke is coming along quite nicely as a result. I've actually just finished the intro and am SOOO happy with it :3 So here is a snippet for you!

"England born Rigel Adams finds himself floundering in unfamiliar America after getting on the wrong plane. Follow the exploits of this nervous office worker who gets into more trouble than he prefers in this silly gag a day comedy! The central character of The Poor Souls stars in his own series of short gag comics filled with subverted expectations as he stumbles his way through day to day activities that don't always go quite right"

Lucky Number Slevin