I feel like writing a short story since I can’t ride at the moment, will write a couple of chapters at a time and see how long I can draw it out for. Wish me luck as my hope is to get this Freshly Pressed.
The morning sun is starting to rise over the distant hills, far-away trees illuminated by the warm glow. The sky is painted in a deep blue, small whiffs of clouds hovering overhead and birds of all shapes and sizes fly above, emitting their morning call.
A deep rumble cuts through the crisp air, the monotonous bah-bah-bah from the powerful engine, hanging like the early morning fog around the bike, steam rises from the race-can, giving the impression of a dragon, ready to decimate it’s foes. The matte black fairings hug the bike and the sunrise gleams in the mirrored visor of the rider who sits atop the tuned beast.
He clicks it down into gear and with a twist of the throttle, the bike launches into the distance, rear tyre spinning with a cloud of smoke and drifting out onto the cold tarmac beneath the rubber. The roar from the engine penetrates the picturesque scene and echoes throughout the hills. The wind pushes against the rider and as he pushes on the bars going into corners, the bike settles down and grips the road with what seems like an unbreakable bond, his knee scrapes the road as the bike pivots through the canyon. Coming up to a tight corner, he gradually pulls on the front brake, getting harder and harder and the weight lifts from the rear and the front of the bike loads up as he approaches the corner, lifting off the front brake he locks his leg into the tank and leans out, feathering the throttle and kicking it down gear by gear, maintaining traction little by little.
He is getting faster and faster as the bike and him become one, corner after corner and the constant rise and fall of the engine revs. It seems like nothing can stop him now, moving like a bat out of hell he tears through the canyon, alone and alive he is on fire, with not a worry in the world. With a glance in the mirror he notices the flash of a headlight, quickly gaining on him, he looks back to the road in front of him and picks up his pace, barely braking into corners, he looks to carry as much speed as he can through each corner. The rear tyre starts to break free on the corners from the enormous amount of stress being placed on the tyre, as this happens he weights the outside peg and drifts it around each corner, but yet, he can still not lose this light behind him. The engine is screaming out in ecstasy as he pushes it harder and harder, as he comes up the a tight decreasing radius corner he pulls hard on the brakes and drops off his speed, kicking down a few gears and breaking the rear tyre loose and drops once again into the corner.
The light behind him comes up beside him like a shadow into light and moves around the outside of him, they are almost touching as they scrape through the corner and into the next one, the shadow rider pulls ahead of him and blocks off his line into the next corner, forcing him to brake early and adjust his line, bewildered by this mysterious rider that has just overtaken him. He follows the rider through the next corner, slowly losing ground as he tries to push harder and harder, riding at 100% of his ability to try to match the other rider.
As he comes into the corner before the one way bridge he looks to go around the outside of the other rider, dropping in later than his competition, pegs scraping the ground in a flash of sparks, it is now that he realises that he won’t make this corner and tries to turn even tighter, much of his body is now close to the ground that is sweeping by, at what seems like the speed of light. His peg digs into the road and before he can realise, the bike digs down and flicks him off.
Tumbling through the air like a rag-doll with the bike following him like a dog and his master. The ground seems so far away now and he is hoping to land on something soft, though in this canyon, it is unlikely that he will find anything resembling soft. He falls back down the the ground and just before he hits, he comes into contacts with the branches of a nearby tree, limbs flailing he now falls to the ground with a loud thud and the crumpling of bones throughout his body, he lies there alone yet alive, on fire with the rise and fall of his chest as he loses conciousness.
The other rider notices he has come off and returns as soon as possible, he sees the bike strewn across the road like an abstract painting and hears the muffled moans of the rider he passed earlier. He pulls out his cellphone and tries to call an ambulance but as he goes to dial he realises that there is no reception this far into the canyon, with no help to arrive he removes his helmet and makes his way down the bank to where the body lies, twisted and beaten, alone but still alive…just.
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