by Hilary Storm
There isn’t a star in sight tonight. The clouds are thick, consuming any light I may obtain from above. I wouldn’t be surprised if a dense fog decided to roll in as well. That’d be my damn luck. Singing to myself, I blaze a trail, basking in the wind hitting my skin. The club was busy tonight, and the girls looked damn good. Not a bad way to spend my evening—tits and a cold beer will please any man if they’ve got their priorities right.
My light flickers off, and I immediately spit out a curse, sitting forward enough so I can bang on the glass. It flashes back on, and I give the loud beast some more gas. I’m hauling ass home before I’m stranded in the middle of nowhere, fuck the dumb shit. I hold on and pay better attention to my surroundings. I don’t need any critters running out in front of me.
My phone rings, echoing through my helmet, but I ignore it. Too many distractions and it can wait. My light flashes, turning off again, and I explode, past the point of being patient with the fucking thing. I lean forward, slamming my hand on it, screaming profanities into the eerie cool night. If only I’d had my head up. If only I’d had some way of seeing in front of me…
The crash happens so fast, it’s surreal. I feel the initial impact, and then I’m airborne. My radio plays, along with a sickening screech of metal on metal. A horrendous scraping from the asphalt ripping against my baby floods through my mind, then I’m hitting the ground where everything goes black.
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