You sounded your horn. Three hard blasts as you came up behind me, then you drew alongside so our cars straddled the loose gravel road. And you grinned at me, mouth stretched as wide as your windscreen. I gripped the wheel and pressed my foot harder and laughed back at you and we hollered along with the engine roars as you dared me and I dared you back on that sun-baked straight, spinning wheels smoking dirt, spraying stones drumming hard on the floor pan. And I knew what you wanted—what I wanted too—but my flirtation was with way more than you. It was a reckless romance, a Bonnie and Clyde with the road, and the speed, and the one way out, the hairpin bend fast, fast approaching. The blind corner I hurtled towards, ahead of you, staring damned death in the face and winning! So fucking winning despite it all. Leaving you for dust.
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