Deriving Freedom

Try to start it up, and sometimes it doesn’t turn over. Every once in
awhile it squeals right before it turns over. The heat doesn’t work
every other day, and sometimes the CD player skips when I go over bumps.
My speed is erratic, never maintained. Signs are not limits, but
suggestions anyway. I salute the long arm of the law but I don’t brake
for it. I’d rather run a yellow light than slow down and wait for it. I
always check my mirrors. I shoulder-check with no intention of changing
lanes, and I’ll never mind if you pass me because it’s not a race�"and I
don’t want to participate in speedy little games. Sometimes I roll down
the windows and feel the wind roll over my skin. I have goosebumps and I
may never get this feeling again. This moment, and this thought, and I
refuse to believe I’ll never see the streets without lights, sun up is
coming and I’m not running because I don’t have to and I’ll just hope
for the sunlight to come on and deliver me good news, god do I like the
good news. When the fuel light comes on, I drive another 10 miles and I
never pull over in the country because only on these 4 wheels do I run
free, fields were never for me. I have control, here in my own little
world, and the passenger fee is sincerity, but you made me stop at the
crosswalk and you crossed me. To be surgically attached to four wheels
and a seatbelt, to escape the jaws of life instead of need them. Oh to
be free… oh to be me.

Reviews

[Emma Berman]

I like this, especially the punny title. Your excitement reminds me of how I felt when I first got my license. Are you a new driver?

I'm actually working on a story about driving right now!