A collection of descriptions.
The dog had eyes like polished, brown pebbles, and long, rust-coloured fur. A dark brown leather collar that had seen better days was loosely fastened around its neck, the leather cracked with age.
The dog had run out, onto the road that was hot from the evening sun and been hit. The impact had shattered the poor creature's bones, so that they pierced its flesh, a crimson spray of blood clashing with the matt-red of the car's hood.
The driver could have swerved but he didn't. He just kept going, hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white and looked as if they'd burst through the skin. His eyes were wide and unblinking, staring vaccantly out of the blood-spattered windshield, hearing the cracking and splintering of bones under the wheels...