The Curve of Broken Dreams--Cyberfiction

 

The Curve of Broken Dreams

The Hummer, a gleaming obsidian monument to excess, crested the hill. Percival Winthrop, ex-Marine, lottery billionaire, and current target of a lawsuit filed by an animal rights group over the unfortunate demise of a groundhog, gripped the steering wheel. Olive, a lumber town nestled deep within the heart of West Virginia's Pocahontas County, was known for one thing: Deadman's Curve. A treacherous S-bend where the mountain road plunged into a ravine, it had claimed countless lives.

Percival, however, felt invincible. His life had just undergone a seismic shift. The lottery ticket, a frivolous purchase during a particularly bleak spell, had yielded a billion dollars. Billion. The weight of that number, the sheer magnitude of it, still felt surreal. He envisioned a life of opulent leisure – private jets, yachts, a collection of vintage motorcycles that would make Ewan McGregor weep. And, of course, a vigorous defense against the absurdity of the groundhog lawsuit.

But as the Hummer approached the curve, a deer, startled by the vehicle's unexpected appearance, bolted onto the road. Percival, reflexes honed by years of military training, slammed on the brakes. The tires screamed in protest, but the Hummer, a behemoth ill-suited for such maneuvers, fishtailed violently.

The world exploded in a cacophony of shattering glass, screeching metal, and the bone-jarring impact. Percival, thrown from the vehicle, felt a searing pain in his legs. He lay amidst the wreckage, the once-gleaming Hummer now a twisted, mangled wreck, the scent of gasoline thick in the air.

The world, once vibrant with the promise of untold riches, had shattered. The lottery win, the lawsuit, the dreams of luxury – all of it seemed a distant memory, a fading echo in the face of this sudden, brutal reality.

Rescue arrived, sirens wailing through the still air. As paramedics tended to his injuries, Percival, gazing at the wreckage of his Hummer, felt a profound sense of loss. Not just the loss of his vehicle, but the loss of the life he had envisioned.

Weeks later, confined to a wheelchair, Percival received a visit from the mayor of Marlinton. A small town known for its eccentric annual Roadkill Days festival, they were seeking a donation to purchase much-needed medical supplies for the event's increasingly popular marathon.

Inspired by the absurdity of his own predicament and the irony of his situation, Percival, with a wry smile, donated a million dollars. "For bandaids," he specified, "In memory of the groundhog."

The Curve of Broken Dreams had not only shattered his Hummer, but also his aspirations. Yet, in the face of adversity, a strange sense of peace settled over him. He had lost his fortune, his dreams, and almost his life. But he had also found a new perspective, a newfound appreciation for the simple things, and a darkly humorous way to honor the creature that had inadvertently changed the course of his life.

Note:  Complete AI fiction.