85 – The curve

The smell of oil,
Burnt rubber,
And hot metal
Floated in the air
Around the dirt track.

Hands gripping tight
The jerking wheel,
Feeling the rush
Of speed, danger,
And adrenaline.

The need to laugh out loud
Or scream,
Filling every fiber
Of your body.

Wheels barely missing
One another
In a rough and dirty game
Of violent tag.

The sound of wheels
Skidding on dirt,
And grass,
And gravel.

The sudden sense
Of flying into trees.

The pain.
The screams,
And running feet.
The darkness.

The worried faces.
Men and women dressed in white.

“But mom, I’m ok… really.
Ask the doctor.
Nothing’s broken.
Please, let me ride again.”

A tricky curve
Can change a whole life,
When you’re twelve
And fearless.

• • •

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