I’m sitting here on my motorcycle at the junction. The red stop light shining bright in it’s prominent position high above the empty carriageway.
There is eager anticipation flowing through my veins.
My single cylinder 500cc engine humming elegantly beneath me. The slight smell of petrol and exhaust fumes lingers in my nostrils. The cool summer night air caresses at my neck, I pull up my bandana. My leather jacket zipped only halfway up.
The light changes to orange, I press my left foot down to change into first. The light hits green I release the clutch and open the throttle. The engine roars to life and I fly off into the night. . . .
I’m crouching naked in the shower wondering where my life went wrong. Warm water splashes back of neck, the trickling of water flowing down the plug hole. That’s when the penny drops and I realise what direction my life is taking.
I stand up, turn off the shower and start drying myself. I rub the towel through my longish curly hair, over my face, and then my torso. The course towel violently rubs my wet skin until dry.
I bend over to pull on my clean boxers, my necklace getting caught up in my chest hair. I wince as I untangle my necklace from my chest hair. I quickly continue to get dressed to go out.
A shadow-like fear begins to work its way into my headspace.
My footsteps, creaking loudly as they resonate down the staircase and through the house. I put on my leather jacket, pick up my bike keys, grab my helmet and enter the garage.
Key slides into ignition, engine starts, garage door opens, bright light shines through open door, fade to white. . . . . .