The following is just something I wrote today, it could be the start of a story. It actually all came off of the first sentence, which I thought of last week, and I finally used it as a prompt. Thoughts, comments, suggestions are all welcome, as it is just a very early beginning.
As he fumbled to find the perfect words to say to her, Raina drove them both off of a cliff. He was not on the phone with her, no, nothing as lucky as that. He was right beside his raven-haired lotus blossom, sitting in the passenger seat that had become his the moment he met her. That had been two years ago, or a short eternity, filled with all the violent red passions and frigid cobalt arguments that great lovers eat, breath, and fix on like desperate smackstarving junkies. Wounds had come right along with the orgasms they shared, but he and Raina would not have had it any other way. They thrived on conflict, and battle kept their hearts beating for and craving each other. Now, after the ups, downs, cuts, and scrapes they have lovingly inflicted on each other during the war of their relationship, Raina had changed strategies. She had apparently adopted a scorched-earth policy, and practiced it with the zeal of a radical terrorist. Too bad it was her A-bomb, he thought, rather calmly for a man who was riding a ton and a half of metal straight down to a twisted sadist’s pillow of large jagged rocks that lay waiting below the cliff for a warm and wet, or even fiery, embrace.