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Freewrite 2

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Post  KenInGA Tue Sep 21, 2010 12:08 pm

It had been sitting there idling at a low purr for about 10 minutes at this point, and the cab was filled with a soup of thick, bitter aroma of burnt diesel atop the musty smells of mildew and not-young canvas. Taking one last look around at the gravel driveway surrounding the truck, I reached out for the door and very emphatically pulled it shut, giving the cab a gentle shake. A quick scan of the gauges showed all good—until the oil pressure started flicking around like a dog’s tail. Oh well. It could wait. I couldn’t. Without further ado, I flexed my left leg out smoothly (but only partially, mind you—for a 13,000 lb truck, this thing had almost no legroom), pushing the not-yet-familiar weight of the clutch pedal to the floor. My right foot pushed firmly against the rock-solid pressure of the brake pedal as my left hand pivoted the parking brake lever to the floor. My right hand grasped the pockmarked rubber of the shifter knob, and I fished about, trying to feel the ever-elusive opening for second gear. After a quick second of fishing, I found the opening through the long shifter lever. While it was the right position, my attempts to shift into gear met nothing but solid, stubborn resistance. Not quite the smooth slip and “click” of the shifter going into gear that one generally expects. Not entirely daunted, I released the shifter, groped somewhat blindly at the floorboard to my right, found, and gently pushed the transfer case lever in to “Low Range,” the well-used shifter sliding smoothly (unlike its counterpart in the transmission) from one gear to the gear. My right hand again returned to its station atop the transmission shifter, and this time, there was no fight. With a sharp, crisp “click,” the shifter slid right into gear. My head immediately emptied of anything, save for anxiety. This was it.

My heart pounding in my throat, I ever-so-slowly released pressure on the clutch pedal. Exactly one-tenth of a second too early, my right foot gently tapped the accelerator, sending the big diesel lurching into a halfhearted scream. Just long enough after for my heart rate and blood pressure to spike, the exhaust pitch immediately dropped to a rumbling, basso growl as the clutch engaged and all six of the wheels lurched as one.

KenInGA

Posts : 19
Join date : 2010-09-14

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Post  Sarah Seko Tue Sep 21, 2010 12:13 pm

Your use of sensory details is amazing! Your topic was something about which I am very unfamiliar, but I was able to understand what was happening completely. I enjoyed the way that your piece went beyond an explanation of the process and delved into your emotions. This was done very subtly, which I think is more effective than explicit statements. By the end of your piece, I felt as though I shared in your triumph.

Sarah Seko

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Post  LEit Tue Sep 21, 2010 2:36 pm

Driving a huge truck sounds really interesting. From how you described it, it feels like your first time driving. I had a scream reading it, because the situation is very a-typical to begin with and you described it so well. The way it works with this piece of writing I think the emotion comes across well. I would like to see more of the end. Did you drive off into the sunset with your huge truck?

LEit

Posts : 21
Join date : 2010-09-19

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Post  cbehling Tue Sep 21, 2010 2:39 pm

While reading this, i could truly see myself sitting there in the truck with you. There were just a few small places where i was pulled out of the story, just a little confused by something. Such as that thing about the floorboards. But other than that, this is very well written. i really like the fact i could feel what you were feeling, and the imagery of your emotions are just as good as your imagery of the truck.

cbehling

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Post  MrX Tue Sep 21, 2010 3:50 pm

Great job on describing the complexities of how stick-shift works and painting a vivid picture for the reader. I personally felt as if I was there with you inside the cab. Excellent!

MrX

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Join date : 2010-09-14

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