I reached down to turn the knob on the old radio.
There's that static, and the tuning in and out before we settle on a tune.
It's not of my choosing. And that's exactly how I like it.
Fuck you Spotify.
Car keys in my hand.
An actual key.
The sun glistens off the steel as I hold it up.
And then slide it into its cylinder.
Fuck you fobs.
I turn the key.
And as I do, I hear the motor roar to life.
It's a deep, earthy growl.
With my hand still on that key. I am connected.
With the machine.
Fuck you push start buttons.
I press firmly against the clutch.
It fights back a little but ultimately relents.
Ready. To start.
My hand envelops the gear knob.
And we shift into first.
Fuck you automatic gear boxes.
Clutch releases. And I bring in the accelerator.
There's that point where one takes over.
From the other.
And she kicks into motion.
I - deliberately - press the accelerator too firmly.
Wheels spin. Squeals against the bitumen.
Fuck you electronic traction control.
We're away. Quickly.
The roof is down.
And my hair blows in the wind.
Elbow on the top of the car door.
I lift my wrist and my hands catches against the wind flying past.
Already driving too fast.
Fuck speed limits.
It all in.
I'm not even sure where I'm going.
Not sure how long I'll be gone. Or where I'll end up.
Fuck those best made plans.
I'm in the driver's seat.
Fuck those who always want me to just stop.
I'm driving now.