Every action we’ve ever decided to make, or not to make in our life, is exactly what fate wants us to do. I think that’s what Nan was trying to make me understand when she told me the story of Etaryshka. Or at least, that’s the meaning I’m trying to attach to it now that I’ve made a relatively stupid decision.
The Suzuki zooms with me through the highway like a bullet, and for a moment, I feel all my nerves come alive with adrenaline; like I might be invincible; indestructible; immortal.
Everything passes me in a blur, and I can feel the temperature of the midday sun beating down my back, heating up my leather jacket.
The hum of the engine and swish of the wind is all I can hear; all I can focus on as I hit the main highways of Lost Angels where I’m forced to reduce my speed in fear tha
