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It was a Sunny Day
As Claire and Eamon drove away from Dublin, heading to Cork.
The day out was a wonderful break from the noise and congestion of Dublin City. Claire felt free, with the warm Irish air blowing through her nut-brown hair as they travelled through the narrow Kerry lanes to Cork for a long weekend with her boyfriend, Eamon, driving the MGA. An open-top sports car he had bought several months earlier. Quite a beauty, folks would say, looking at the 1960 model.
But that carefree ride was about to turn ugly.
Coming to the bottom of a steep hill, “There’s something wrong with the brakes!” Eamon shouted.
Claire screamed.
Would this ruin their weekend away, or would it ruin the prospects of them spending their whole life together? Eamon had yet to pop the question.
Claire’s brown hair blew wildly across her face, blinding her to the tragedy unfolding. Eamon was stamping on the brake pedal and pulling hard on the handbrake, but his MGA convertible continued to speed downhill towards the T-junction and the wooden fence beyond.
“Can’t you make it stop?” Claire yelled.
Eamon ignored her, trying to decide whether to let the car crash into the fence or try and make a right turn. He opted for the fence, not…
