This morning I raced a thunderstorm! - Tilted Forum Project Discussion Community

billege · 05-12-2005, 09:39 AM

This morning I raced a thunderstorm!

The clouds came in dark, and heavy.
Eight o' clock approached slowly.
Thunder hit with each tick of the clock.

As the end of my shift slowly crept foreward, my chances of a dry ride home
also crept. They crept down the drain, where the rain would follow. But
with great courage did I walk to the parking lot. With a defiant snort at
the looming clouds, I shoved down my helmet. My bike woke with a snarl,
daring the clouds to pour forth. The gauntlet thus thrown down, the chase
began.

Onto the road I squirted. Immediatly, it appeared greater forces had arrayed
themselves against me. In my way stood one of my old foes, its red eye
glaring down at me. The traffic light refused to budge, forcing me to wait
for permission to pass. Further fear built in me; a raindrop on my
windshield. The sky warned me, taunted me, dared me to continue with my
foolish game. A flash of green, a roar of flailing pistons, I shot from
under the traffic light. I felt this would not be the last time I'd see the
yellow hide of my advesary. It was not.

Racing, twising, turning, I flew up and down the damp streets. Oil boiling
like blood, the bike promised this would be our day. Speeding, racing...
SCREEECH! My yellow friend blinked his eye, once more displaying red. My
journey slammed to a halt. Seeing its chance,the sky struck. Lighting and
thunder crashed. Me held prisoner filled the sky with hope and joy. Those
tears of joy fell on me. They filled me with rage and reslove. The day would
be mine!

Green.

Front wheel held high,the bike lept!
Its own black clouds spraying from the tire. The tourtered rubber screamed back at the sky, stunning the heavens into silence.

Onto the freeway I flew. Rain began to fall. Pelting me like stones, chipping away my hope. Faster I sped. I looked up at the sky and saw my doom. Dark clouds began their attack, trowing legions of drops down at me.
Too slow they fell. Too few they hit. I drove on.

The bike warm now, begging for more. It surged under me, the currents of power more daunting and immediate than any bag of water vapor. We sped on. Fearing my escape, the sky redoubled its efforts. It called on its archers who shot drop after drop into our path. Like its great ancestors my wind-shield warded off the blows we were delt. We sped on. The edge of the clouds grew nearer. The freeway ends, slowing our escape.

Off we go into the wild. Opponents and obstacles come from all directions. Sleepy drivers not noticing our harried flight. Coffiee cups in hand they drive, oblivious to the battle being waged before them. Thunder rages from the sky. It knows it is losing.

Darting into the garage I look at the sky.

It is quickly growing dark. The great thunderheads grare down at me. As I unpack my bike, the heavens open.

This time I have won, but the game will be played again. I savor my victory, while the sky rants and raves. My bike creaks and pops contentedly, cooling off. It waits for the game too. Raindrops hiss their displeasure at our escape.

Next time vows the storm. Next time.

I wrote that as an email to my then girlfriend, now wife, about 5 years ago after a ride home from work. Obviously, I was in a creative mood.

I didn't change any of it, but I couldn't help adding a few commas and line breaks where they were so desperately needed.

05-12-2005, 09:39 AM	#1 (permalink)
billege Watcher Location: Ohio	This morning I raced a thunderstorm! This morning I raced a thunderstorm! The clouds came in dark, and heavy. Eight o' clock approached slowly. Thunder hit with each tick of the clock. As the end of my shift slowly crept foreward, my chances of a dry ride home also crept. They crept down the drain, where the rain would follow. But with great courage did I walk to the parking lot. With a defiant snort at the looming clouds, I shoved down my helmet. My bike woke with a snarl, daring the clouds to pour forth. The gauntlet thus thrown down, the chase began. Onto the road I squirted. Immediatly, it appeared greater forces had arrayed themselves against me. In my way stood one of my old foes, its red eye glaring down at me. The traffic light refused to budge, forcing me to wait for permission to pass. Further fear built in me; a raindrop on my windshield. The sky warned me, taunted me, dared me to continue with my foolish game. A flash of green, a roar of flailing pistons, I shot from under the traffic light. I felt this would not be the last time I'd see the yellow hide of my advesary. It was not. Racing, twising, turning, I flew up and down the damp streets. Oil boiling like blood, the bike promised this would be our day. Speeding, racing... SCREEECH! My yellow friend blinked his eye, once more displaying red. My journey slammed to a halt. Seeing its chance,the sky struck. Lighting and thunder crashed. Me held prisoner filled the sky with hope and joy. Those tears of joy fell on me. They filled me with rage and reslove. The day would be mine! Green. Front wheel held high,the bike lept! Its own black clouds spraying from the tire. The tourtered rubber screamed back at the sky, stunning the heavens into silence. Onto the freeway I flew. Rain began to fall. Pelting me like stones, chipping away my hope. Faster I sped. I looked up at the sky and saw my doom. Dark clouds began their attack, trowing legions of drops down at me. Too slow they fell. Too few they hit. I drove on. The bike warm now, begging for more. It surged under me, the currents of power more daunting and immediate than any bag of water vapor. We sped on. Fearing my escape, the sky redoubled its efforts. It called on its archers who shot drop after drop into our path. Like its great ancestors my wind-shield warded off the blows we were delt. We sped on. The edge of the clouds grew nearer. The freeway ends, slowing our escape. Off we go into the wild. Opponents and obstacles come from all directions. Sleepy drivers not noticing our harried flight. Coffiee cups in hand they drive, oblivious to the battle being waged before them. Thunder rages from the sky. It knows it is losing. Darting into the garage I look at the sky. It is quickly growing dark. The great thunderheads grare down at me. As I unpack my bike, the heavens open. This time I have won, but the game will be played again. I savor my victory, while the sky rants and raves. My bike creaks and pops contentedly, cooling off. It waits for the game too. Raindrops hiss their displeasure at our escape. Next time vows the storm. Next time. I wrote that as an email to my then girlfriend, now wife, about 5 years ago after a ride home from work. Obviously, I was in a creative mood. I didn't change any of it, but I couldn't help adding a few commas and line breaks where they were so desperately needed. __________________ I can sum up the clash of religion in one sentence: "My Invisible Friend is better than your Invisible Friend."