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Let the $ be spent
Join Date: Feb 2005
Bikes: 07 Blek R1
Location: Townsville, Qld, Australia
Posts: 2,625
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To start the ball rolling:
A Flight of Fantasy
Flashes of violet against an ink stained sky. Rolling, rumbling, growling, closing in, as the air thickened. Dust was picked up, gently at first before rushing forward toward an unknown destination. The storm was building, brewing in the late afternoon sky, intensifying with each passing moment. No rain yet, just lightning, thunder and an ever increasing breeze.
In a darkened corner, she crouched, waiting patiently for her chance. Se could feel it in the air, the tension building like the storm. Soon, she thought to herself, soon I will be free again. It was unfair to be caged up like this. Unfair to be forgotten, neglected for hours on end. She was fed when she was hungry, and well looked after, however attention was what kept her feeling so alive. And to be left alone was worse than death. It was emptiness complete. Nothingness.
She felt his presence. Felt his hands caress her sides. Was it time? Am I to be unleashed again, freed to run, to give all that I can? There was a tingle from his touch, a sense of urgency, excitement.
She felt his hands in the gloom, grip her tightly. Yes! Now it is time, now I will be free again.
Growling, she edged herself forward, forced by his firm hands into the right direction. Her heart was warming again, her soul feeling less weighed down, yet still so heavy from the recent memories of her neglect.
The path before her was cluttered, overcrowded with others in their cages. How sad, given the freedom she was sure was coming her way.
Coming to the edge of the township, she felt his urgency and excitement. The storm was catching them, and it did look like rain. Lightning streaked across the horizon behind them. The town had dissolved into the storm behind them, the way ahead clear and free. Time to be free, time to run from the storm. She felt him urge her on, insistent she give her all to his wants.
Snarling, she pawed the air, shooting forward, gaining momentum as the periphery became a blur. Her focus was a pinpoint on the horizon. Screaming with excitement, she lunged ahead, the sleepiness now fully passed. Her extremities alive with sensation, tactile response from her master and the road. She was now awake, anticipating his very thoughts, changing direction as soon as the thought entered his head. Nimble, agile, she was never meant to be couped up in a box, left in the corner forgotten. Now was her time to show him how special she was, and how good she could be.
They were as one now, her pulse and his, her heart and his soul. This is how it was always meant to be. Just the two of them.
They’d come across the occasional trapped soul in a cage, but leave them so far behind, so quickly forgotten. They were in heaven. Perfectly matched.
The storm was now distant memory, forgotten between hills and vales. Now however she was hungry, he was tired. She knew it was coming to an end. Almost time to rest, almost time to sleep.
The dark corner awaited, and came sooner than she had hoped. However, for a time she had been completely freed, let loose to roam the world, predator in waiting she was. She had swallowed distance with glee, devoured curves as though they were not there. She knew she had left him feeling sated. He felt complete.
She felt him move away, his presence no longer close, as she ticked time away and cooled herself again. Her paws were sore, torn to shreds, however she knew they’d heal.
Darkness engulfed her once more, a velvet cloak, cooling and caressing her body.
She knew she would wait again, she knew she could. Oh how she loathed the neglect after such a night.
But she knew she’d anticipate the next encounter more than the last. For this was her lot in life. A predator of roads. Her masters companion. An angel of metal and rubber.
For she was motorcycle.
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When we are born we are naked, wet, hungry and we get smacked on our arse. From there on, life gets worse.
Be kinder than necessary, for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle
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Aussie tales and yarns
(yeah rich coming from me I know 
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