|Blogs > rm_9gabriel > flight|
I'm just rambling, here - I'm not sleeping, which is bad, but Erin's not here - whiich is good. At least, I'm telling myself that. Gotta look for an apartment tomorrow, and I bloody well hate that. I should look at it as all exciting and stuff, shopping for a new pad, it's all an adventure, but I haven't tricked myself into that mood yet. It is all about perspective, tho, and I know this now.
I will be a positive person.
I will be an optimistic person.
Life is beautiful.
The world is my sushi platter.
All will be revealed in time.
Bend in the wind.
_^( Daily Affirmation, by Todd )^_
I was on I-5, cruising northward near Beacon Hill when this older black Mercedes paces me for just long enough to draw my attention before accelerating away. An Asian woman with sunglasses looked back at me for a second before punching the gas.
"Huh," I says to myself. "Self, I like this." Rolling the throttle, I couold feel that pause before the power kicked in; when the power came the bike leapt forward and I leaned on the handlebars, stabbing between cars and looking for the Mercedes.
She'd stepped on it hard herself; I had been doing seventy when she passed me, and she'd reached I-90. I had the speed up to 95 as I continued to open her up, flying faster and gaiining on the car. The wind whistled by me when I hit 110 and pulled up beside her, the woman's sunglasses gliinting as she turned my way and smiled gently before going for the gas again.
Leaping forward just behind her, I took the lane to her left and saw the speedometer hit 120; traffic loomed ahead and we split up. I took the carpool lane, she took the slow lane, and we danced down the freeway, weaving and darting. When I got slowed by a semi she looked back and waved.
The speedometer pegged out before I'd reached the speed I wanted; I was thinking about nothing but physics and geometry, and metal shined and my engine hummed a high tune until I caught her and gestured for her to pull over.
She stepped out of the car as my motorcycle idled and I pulled off my helmet. 5'8, a black silk pants suit with Bolles and hair that glowed as it flowed down her shoulders and over the fabric that hid what appeared to be ample breasts, well-supported. Not that I noticed.
She took her sunglasses off with one hand and shaded her eyes with the other, her lips glossy and supple. She smiled, and held out her hand.
"What's your name?" she said.
2/3/2006 7:08 am
speed ended up around 160, apparently; jesus, imagine wiping at that speed|