A million lights lance in his vision. A smear of neon. He leans into the turn and his helmet passes within a handspan of a car’s rear light at a velocity that’d tear his skull from his spine. He guns into the straight, zipping between vehicles blazing at incredible speed, and still only half as fast as he is.
Faster.
The bike’s turbo whines as it eclipses the boom of the engine. The roar of the air whipping by is deafening. Each minor adjustment, each compensation, injects a bolt of adrenaline into his system. It tops up the cocktail of chemical ecstasy. If froths and bubbles, threatening to overspill and flood his blood beyond saturation.
Faster.
He feels each flaw in the smooth blacktop as if he were running his own gloved hand along it. The downforce presses both him and the bike close to the road, while inertia around the corners threatens to rip them away.
Faster.
The stress and strain is felt within the core of the machine. He feels her struggling against the powerful forces that vie to pull them apart at the seams. He grits his teeth. The bike bears hers. It’s spirit screams at the air. They fly forward, a bolt of lightning across the black of night.
Paddy Dobson
4th July 2022