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The glass broke like picture frame glass, all sharp-edged and spiky. Safety glass was invented as it breaks into tiny shards that are unlikely to cause major da

by jvm___ 3y ago

The glass broke like picture frame glass, all sharp-edged and spiky. Safety glass was invented as it breaks into tiny shards that are unlikely to cause major damage.

Symbiote 3y ago
I read Roald Dahl's autobiography when I was young (young enough to be reading his other children's books) and remember his description of the car accident in 1925, when he was 9: > The driver was to be that twelve-years-older-than-me half-sister ... She had received two full half-hour lessons in driving from the man who delivered the car, and in that enlightened year of 1925 this was considered quite sufficient. > ... > Spurred on by our shouts and taunts, the ancient sister began to increase the speed. The engine roared and the body vibrated. The driver was clutching the steering-wheel as though it were the hair of a drowning man, and we all watched the speedometer needle creeping up to twenty, then twenty-five, then thirty. We were probably doing about thirty-five miles an hour when we came suddenly to a sharpish bend in the road. The ancient sister, never having been faced with a situation like this before, shouted ‘Help!’ and slammed on the brakes and swung the wheel wildly round. The rear wheels locked and went into a fierce sideways skid, and then, with a marvellous crunch of mudguards and metal, we went crashing into the hedge. The front passengers all shot through the front windscreen and the back passengers all shot through the back windscreen. Glass (there was no Triplex then) flew in all directions and so did we. My brother and one sister landed on the bonnet of the car, someone else was catapulted out on to the road and at least one small sister landed in the middle of the hawthorn hedge. But miraculously nobody was hurt very much except me. My nose had been cut almost clean off my face as I went through the rear windscreen and now it was hanging on only by a single small thread of skin. My mother disentangled herself from the scrimmage and grabbed a handkerchief from her purse. She clapped the dangling nose back into place fast and held it there. — Roald Dahl, Boy (1984)
- seanthemon 3y ago
  One strand away from becoming Voaldahlmort

by jvm___ 3y ago

The glass broke like picture frame glass, all sharp-edged and spiky. Safety glass was invented as it breaks into tiny shards that are unlikely to cause major damage.

Symbiote 3y ago

I read Roald Dahl's autobiography when I was young (young enough to be reading his other children's books) and remember his description of the car accident in 1925, when he was 9: > The driver was to be that twelve-years-older-than-me half-sister ... She had received two full half-hour lessons in driving from the man who delivered the car, and in that enlightened year of 1925 this was considered quite sufficient. > ... > Spurred on by our shouts and taunts, the ancient sister began to increase the speed. The engine roared and the body vibrated. The driver was clutching the steering-wheel as though it were the hair of a drowning man, and we all watched the speedometer needle creeping up to twenty, then twenty-five, then thirty. We were probably doing about thirty-five miles an hour when we came suddenly to a sharpish bend in the road. The ancient sister, never having been faced with a situation like this before, shouted ‘Help!’ and slammed on the brakes and swung the wheel wildly round. The rear wheels locked and went into a fierce sideways skid, and then, with a marvellous crunch of mudguards and metal, we went crashing into the hedge. The front passengers all shot through the front windscreen and the back passengers all shot through the back windscreen. Glass (there was no Triplex then) flew in all directions and so did we. My brother and one sister landed on the bonnet of the car, someone else was catapulted out on to the road and at least one small sister landed in the middle of the hawthorn hedge. But miraculously nobody was hurt very much except me. My nose had been cut almost clean off my face as I went through the rear windscreen and now it was hanging on only by a single small thread of skin. My mother disentangled herself from the scrimmage and grabbed a handkerchief from her purse. She clapped the dangling nose back into place fast and held it there. — Roald Dahl, Boy (1984)

seanthemon 3y ago
One strand away from becoming Voaldahlmort