The Drive


First, to second, on to third, last fourth gear. The hand on the meter rises, 100, 110, 120 MPH. A window is cracked, the wind rushes on my face, the speed never scares me, It’s always a race in my eyes. Left lane, middle, right, back to middle, right. Threading the needle, I’m racing in the Daytona 500 and I need the gold.

“Where do you want to go?” I ask, and get a quiet, muffled response
“What did you say?”
Once again, an almost haunting answer that’s too quiet to hear replies,
“I’m feeling hungry”
“What do you want?” I ask
“Whatever you want”

The sun starts to set, bright blue mixed with orange and yellow over the mountains. And to the East comes a deep, dark purple, mixing with black and blue. With just a few dim, low stars. All of a sudden, the night comes with just a blink

The moonlight gleams through the dark, puffy clouds. The stars twinkle bright, yellow flashes. A shooting star crosses the sky and disappears like a wave in the ocean

“I wouldn’t want anyone else here with me,” I reach my hand, expecting someone to grab it, but it stays empty, and cold, shaking. I slowly look to the right,

And see an empty seat...

For a second, I thought I had smelled perfume. And suddenly a strong pain in my chest, unexplainable, unbearable, agonizing pain that won’t go

Back on the highway going 100, like I said, I’ve never been scared of the speed, but for some reason, I’m terrified of something.
And then I remember that I am alone,
and only haunted by a voice and my memories.

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