Feet pounding against the dock, Tom bounded against the rotting wood. He dared not look down, and he raced as fast as he could until he reached the car and crashed into its hood.
"Must. Leave." He gasped, and slid into the front seat. It was all a blur after that. He turned the keys hurriedly and stepped on the ignition. At the least Tom was going a hundred miles an hour, and he could barely see where he was going. The car almost levitated it was going so fast, and spewed up little pebbles in its wake. However it was frigid outside, and though it was November ice was already starting to form on the streets. All of a sudden there was a patch of black ice, and there was a tree. And there was a patch of black ice and a tree. And there was a car. A speeding car sliding over the ice. A speeding car skirting over to the tree. And there was a tree. And there was a car. And there was a tree and a car. And there was a crash.
