Driving Home

Mile 10:

There’s a hot girl on a motorcycle. She throws a wave to every biker she passes. Few, if any, toss it back. She’s hunched low, stretched out over the tank, her shirt blowing up revealing a pale pink bra when she accelerates. I’m envious instantly.

Mile 12:

There’s a lexus between us. I see the woman behind the wheel gesturing to give her point more punch. What could she be talking about?

Pink passes them. I don’t blame her, i switch lanes to do the same. I look through the window at the lexus woman and I see the man in the passenger seat staring out the window at Pink. The driver notices she’s lost his attention. Oh no.

Mile 15:

Pink is stuck behind them again and I behind her. Lexus hits the windshield washer fluid. As with most cars (apparently even the more pricey ones) it over shoots the car and Pink is pissed on. Petty bullshit. I see her swerve a bit, I slow down.

Mile 15.5:

Pink passes, tosses them a low peace sign then slows and flicks the driver off. She pops the front wheel up and disappears.

Mile 16:

She’s gone and I’m envious for another reason.


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