| After leaving his house, climbing into his 1991 Toyota
Corolla, driving into downtown Dayton, walking into the dimly-lit bar, meeting
four of his buddies, slamming back a few beers, watching the Reds lose to the
Indians, chugging a few more, taking a few shots, starting an argument with the
bartender, after stumbling across the parking lot, falling into the driver’s
seat, starting his car, lurching out of the lot, swerving up the I-35 entrance
ramp, after straddling the double yellow line, spinning out of control, after
the roll into the telephone pole, the deafening explosion, the arrival of the
fire truck and ambulance, while sirens wailed, lights flashed, and a crowd
gathered, Scratchy Wilson was covered with a white sheet. by Christina Phelps |
[[Notice the active verbs throughout until the very end,
creating extra irony and emphasis from a sudden final passive (the most passive
of all – death). The connecting elements
vary, occurring in short groups then clearly moving on to the next short group. The length of the groups shortens towards the
end, giving a sense of momentum and climax.
The sentence moves forward in time, but also, paradoxically, begins
after it has already ended.]]
The core sentence = “After …, while …, Wilson was covered.”
After
leaving his house, climbing into his 1991
Toyota Corolla, driving
into downtown Dayton, walking
into the dimly-lit bar, meeting
four of his buddies, slamming
back a few beers, watching
the Reds lose to the Indians, chugging a few more, taking a few shots, starting an argument with the bartender, after stumbling across the parking lot, falling into the driver’s
seat, starting his
car, lurching out
of the lot, swerving
up the I-35 entrance ramp, after
straddling the
double yellow line, spinning
out of control, after the roll into the telephone
pole, the deafening explosion, the arrival of the fire truck and ambulance, while sirens wailed, lights flashed, and a crowd gathered, Scratchy Wilson was covered with a
white sheet.
After leaving his
house,
climbing
into his 1991 Toyota Corolla,
driving
into downtown Dayton,
walking
into the dimly-lit bar,
meeting
four of his buddies,
slamming
back a few beers,
watching
the Reds lose to the Indians,
chugging a
few more,
taking a
few shots,
starting
an argument with the bartender,
after stumbling across the parking lot,
falling
into the driver’s seat,
starting
his car,
lurching
out of the lot,
swerving
up the I-35 entrance ramp,
after straddling the double yellow line,
spinning
out of control,
after the roll into the telephone pole,
the
deafening explosion,
the
arrival of the fire truck and ambulance,
while sirens wailed,
lights
flashed, and
a crowd
gathered,
Scratchy Wilson
was covered with a white sheet.