The smell of burning rubber blows past her face. She turns her head and tucks her nose into the massive space between his shoulder blades. Her own arms are wrapped about his waist, She leans back and adjust her head band. As he starts the bike she begins to quickly braid her long reddish brown hair. The sounds from the race track vibrates in her ears. With head pressed against his back they drive off. She can’t help but smile as his hair catches in the wind and tickles her face. She lifts her head and looks past his strong shoulders into the road ahead. So many journeys they had shared, ages worth, some happy some sad. He was truly a part of her soul. He need only to walk into the room to make her heart skip a beat. She with the head strong, somewhat stubborn attitude that not only conquered his heart but tried his patience. So appropriate that they ride, so comforting is the chaos of the track. The sensory overload of sound and smell. The overtaking way the vibrations of machine meeting road causes your heart to race. Wind blowing in your hair, the road beneath you, all the while wrapped in the strength and love of one another. The bike bounces and he quickly turns his head to make sure she’s ok. She smiles and kisses his cheek. In a flurry of hair that has broken free from her make shift braid ,she smiles and holds on tighter. She not only feels the strength of the man she married, but the gentleness that lives behind those sky blue eyes. Tonight they return to mom and dad, middle aged employees, partners in what we call society. In this moment though, they are elusive, risk takers that ride wild into the wind. Lovers holding tight with only the wind in front of them and reality behind them. The moon has risen and soon it will be time to turn back. But for now she will lose herself in the smell of man ,machine and nature…………… Land of Rose

Milan

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