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Midnight Skins


Recommended Posts

waxman.

The stone black road below was heavy and cold. There was right red dust that illuminated from the headlights of the motorbike as it bulleted across the barren landscape, free from any vegetation. Sixty miles north, they rode together. Some meridian retreat. Some odd romantic acts, vaguely taboo. It was love from the get-go, when the diesel smoke lingered, and hung, rising and falling throughout the wetland labyrinth. The air in Florida was a lot more coastal, and spread across into the inlands. They would rest below, huddled together in pitched tents for the night; awaking the next morning to the virgin plains and newly born beetles, becoming sacred by the glaze of the sunlight kiss. They missed those days. The warmth most. Second, the spontaneousness of their lives at the time. "Let's ride.. now," were words so engraved into the couple, as their sandals slipped below from their feet and danced upon the darkened ground.

 

There was something that went wrong. June of 1974, and they stopped at a gas station four miles from Phoenix. A group of hostile, rouge men in other leather outfits. Other cigars, beer breathe, chipped teeth, ideologies. Gunfire, and an all-in-brawl broke out. Groups of over two-hundred men cocking back their weapons and firing, like some vivid mirage of reality, as she stared down at the road - his jaw broken, his pulse - none. She thought he was dead, and that's all she cared about. She left, heading inland towards Kanas. Relatives have lived on a far-off barn, tucked away like some Armish village. The acres, sacred. Air, untouched by industry. She arrived in August, and lived off the farm for many years. Growing crops, maintaing cattle, and occasionally brewing some shine' with her father.

 

Never again, did she see him. He lived on. He watched from the mountains, as she graced the lands. Never approaching her. He saw himself as a cage. If he truly loved her, he'd let her be free. So he sat, his eyes searching for the small barn house in the dip in the valley; the gardens, of all colours, red, blue, purple, white and was decorated with cobble foundation. They weren't of value to him.

 

 

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