Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Reverie #3

The moment you let go of the handle bars life is set in slow motion.

String-instruments swoon and slowly falling leaves float past my face. The sunset peers through the foliage. The clicking of the wheels synchronizes with the sound of the life around me. A car passes on the opposite side of the road and I see a mid age woman with long stringy hair, a smile hostage to her face. Our eyes met in the crossfire of speed and the glare of the sun. I figured her name was Joan, and she was a dental assistant with a hidden passion for salsa dancing. She sees disheartening reports of the economy on the news and wonders why she isn't more worried about things. I shifted my focus back on the road and a billowing wave of cold damp air pushed past my face. A shiver climbed up my spine just as the range of vocals reached their climax. Time was then forced back to reality and I was flying down a hill, I must have been going 127 miles per hour at the rate of pavement I was covering. I looked to the side and saw nothing but green blur. The sun's rays flickered like a strobe through the branches. I clenched my teeth and moved my body to the right at the anticipation of the bend in the road. A car broke through the corner and honked just as I was passing. My heart attempted to jump through my ribcage and the strobe light was making me dizzy, my breathing a forced heaving whisper. I peddled faster down the next stretch and let go of the handle bars.

The moment you let go of the handle bars life is set in slow motion.

1 comment:

Kirsten Rickman said...

You are wonderful!

ugh sometimes I hate reading your blog, I get so jealous of you :]]

reverie... what an incredible idea.

I like the part about Joan and the way the first sentence is the last.