Tight Curves and a Whiskey Sour


The other evening I finally had a chance to sit down and free write for a bit.  It was good to pull some words and fashion them into something semi-poetic.  Whether its quality work or not is really beside the point, because personally it was very cathartic.

My running free write themes seem to be women and cars, which is a tad ironic considering I’ve been in a monogamous relationship for three-years and I know absolutely nothing about cars.  However, that being said I find women beautiful, and I like a bit of speed and danger in my life, so perhaps my reoccurring elements occur for a very definite reason.  Nevertheless, without further ado let me present to you, “Tight Curves and a Whiskey Sour”:

Tight Curves and a Whiskey Sour

Flirtatious flirtation escaped her lips at four minutes past midnight.  The red gleam glinted perilously from her lips to the car’s moonlight glint.  He smirked, as she shifted between his thighs, and he shifted up a gear to speed past the 5-0 in as little as 5.0.  Smirks in all directions as black lights lit up the skyscrapers.  The white turned lavender accentuated her curves, and he turned sharply just to hear a screech and feel both curves tightly.

A pair of lights shone brightly in the distance, and peaked just as the curvature of the Earth hugged the cityscape.  Like a tight pair of jeans, her genes wove harmonically around a double helix to create something more than Mera.  Water gently fell and floated around a symmetrical axis before hitting the hood of a supercharged piece of muscle.  Flesh intermixed with flesh in the driver’s seat as the two pairs glinted and sparked in union as they passed one another.  Strangers in the dark connected only by ball lightning and the light splash of Gala’s breath.

Simultaneously, a man served up a Whiskey Sour and sent it careening to the end of the bar. It tumbled and by the physical laws stayed contained as the gloved man caught it in a flawless motion.

“A second please,” he firmly stated.

“But you haven’t even…,” in a gulp he finished the drink and stared.

A second, a third, and eventually an eleventh appeared.  Red lights fell across the district until…

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Runnin’


Like a mad Mrs. Dash I hit the pavement running.  King couldn’t catch this “Running Man”; not even with a pen and a stack of pages. I  scratched back like a Jimmy Dean skimmin’ across a record with a vibe and a slick groove.  Electric…wait for it…slide.  More curvy than a thick 8-track and more retro than a phonograph I hit the curb and skittered off to the tower of Titans.  I heard a chirp; I heard a flutter.

I thought to myself, “Is it a blue jay? A robin?  Nah.”

I pushed it from my thoughts and thought about the universe.  Lightning and thunder clapped and rained down around me as I sprinted to an unknown finish line.  I’d cross it and cross it again before even the next lighting flashed like a ’58 bulb caught in time.  The Flash wish he could run like me.  Speeding by cars and trucks I leapt tall buildings to show that the Super Man wasn’t the only one who had hops.  The sun winked and urged me on—I winked back and the moon raised an eyebrow.  My sneaks sparked and moaned, they caught fire and split, but I kept runnin’.  I hit Mach 5 like Ani on a Swoop.  The sands of Tatooine couldn’t hold a speedster like me.  I broke the chains of the Huts just to take my disappearing shackles back to Houdini as he plunged into the cold waters of the Green River.  Pop culture at its finest.  Keanu may have had a runaway bus, but Bullock took one for the team and hit the high seas for round two.

“Just crusin’,” I whispered to myself.

Even my breath caught wind and broke the sound barrier.  BOOM!  Even a whisper can shape the future.  A butterfly effect in full swing.  It dances with the past and serenades the present.  Chaos theory organized and then reshuffled just to be jumbled by the muttering of words that caught enough velocity to break sound. I smirked and lurched forward.  I took a tumble caught a rock and sled to a stop.  The Mojave was hot, but it was about to get hotter.  I took a runner’s stance and took a step forward.  Faster than the speed of light I rocketed from my position into the stratosphere.  I reached the stars and then the heavens in less then a millisecond.  There I found the den of dead Gods and again I smirked.

“Freewill it is.”

I fell.  I crashed through the troposphere and hit the tropics creating a mushroom cloud of rock and foliage as it after shocked my system to the current moment.  I took off again.  I had places to be and my thoughts were already there.  I needed to catch up.