Speed down West Side Highway (New York) in a convertible with your roof down, left hand on the wheel, and right hand holding a glass of wine out the window. If you angle the glass correctly, you should find that no wine spills out as you speed down the highway. It will only spill should you stop moving at a constant speed, according to Sir Isaac Newton.
A man by the name of Robert lived out the exact moment. Robert was a devout Christian; yet, he drank alcohol somewhat excessively. He was a regular at the local homeless shelter in his hometown–– not because he was homeless, for he made more money in a year than most would in a lifetime, but because he simply wanted to help.
His thick brown hair trailed behind him in the wind as he sped down West Side with his roof down. It was almost sunset; the sky faded into deeper hues of red as Robert drove. One hand sat firmly on the steering wheel, decorated with his Mother’s ring on his middle finger and a tattoo that read “Forever, Your’s” in gothic cursive letters spread across his wrist. There was a date written under the tattoo, but in a faded sharpie. His left hand was holding a wine glass out of the window, angled so that no wine would spill out as he drove. On his wrist was a golden watch with glittering diamonds surrounding the face; but, the hands stood still.
The wine glass was completely full when Robert’s convertible smashed into the rear of an Amazon truck. Broken glass sparkled on the sunlit asphalt. Sirens could be heard fading into the scene as the driver of the truck stumbled out of his vehicle after the initial shock of the crash subsided. He seemed to be unharmed.
Robert was not so lucky. His left arm was still stuck out of the now crinkled car door, and his brown hair now fell over his face. The crash had rendered his entire vehicle to paper maché, stained red with paint and wine and sun. His fingers clasped the glass of red wine delicately. All of the wine had gone, and the watch on his wrist still did not tick.