Ribbons of concrete and asphalt stretch out ahead, winding into the horizon. Apollos chariot takes chase as the sweet pungent smell of freshly cut alfalfa permeates the air.
Morning commuters move through life like the living dead. Talking on cell phones, applying makeup, or downing a grand mocha latte while guiding plastic and steel cages along the interstate. Their eyes are dead and fixed, staring through safety glass, looking but not seeing. Contemplating the upcoming days events, emulating lemmings, one after another headed to their ultimate doom.
113 cubic inches of chrome and steel rumble warmly, pushing me past the zombies and golems. The sun glinting off polished surfaces reflects intermittently across my face. Azure skies ahead fill the day with promise. Golds and greens of local fauna frame my escape path. This is the world and I am in it. Experiencing it first hand, I am free. I am my own boss.
