Simple title, simple subject, simple story thing. Basically this isn't so much a story but my soul stuck on a piece of paper (or in a microsoft word document, whichever you prefer. ^_^). By the way, can you tell that I really enjoy driving? XD
It calls to me, it’s always called to me. On the open road, endless possibilities lie before me. All I need is a car. Key in ignition, turn it and feel the vibration. The anticipatory hum of the engine. All it takes is a single press of my right foot and I’m off into everything.
It’s my escape. I don’t have obligation. I am in control. The wheel beneath my hands controls the entire metal cage around me. I am my own person.
I can do what I please. I can be free. If I want to turn, I turn. If I so please I can keep going forever…or at least until I run out of gas. Two tons of metal is at my disposal with a simple turn of the wrist. This is power.
The seat vibrates beneath me, my right hand rests on the gearshift, left hand held loosely on the wheel, my right foot on the break and my left hovering right over the clutch. Punch the clutch in, hit first gear, gas it and go. Just go. The engine roars to life as the RPMs rise. That VROOOOOOOM is music to my ears. Second, third, fourth as I pick up speed. Fifth and I’m set. Right hand to the wheel, left hand out the open window to feel the cooling air rushing past as I speed away from anything and everything.
And now it’s just me and the car. No judgements, no obligations, no pressure. No worries…well, crashing the car isn’t a great idea, but you know…that’s why you pay attention. I don’t have to think about life, because concentrating on driving blocks all of that out. The road seems to stretch on forever, calling me to just keep going. Never look back, because after all, you can’t drive looking in the rearview mirror. It’s looking forward all the way. There can be no regrets, because after all there is nothing to begin with. Nobody to let down. Hunk of metal, asphault, me. Nothing else. Inanimate objects are my only companion, and here in this moment nothing could make me happier.
I can sing as loud (and as badly) as I want. I can talk to myself, I can talk to the car, I can talk to people that aren’t actually there and tell them everything I’ve always wanted to tell them but never will. I can yell, scream, rant, or rage. Nobody is there to hear any of it.
And, most of all, I can drive. Away. Away from everything. Away is where I need to go, away is where I can be.
Always the road calls to me. Come, go away with me.
Infinite possibilities-A writer's guild
This is a writer's guild where all can gather for feedback and advice on all mediums of writing. Plus it's a great place for conversation.
