It's Still Life

Beyond an Intersection Named After an English King and a Saint
Six Sentence Story: Day 4

Drifting from The Three Moles Pub

“Did ya get lost, or what, Brigid? … re-bloody-calculating,” says the child-like brogue of the SatNav — Nick’s focus snaps to the map on the PCM screen, “… lil’ fucker …” he grins.

“Thanks just the same, Drake, but I know where I’m going,” and I take a sharp left on to a narrow track that warns heavy goods vehicles to find an alternate route.

The 911 is an obsidian arrow kicking up dust and biting through the sunlight – the rear drifts out of the apex, the front dips as the tyres grip; it’s a flat-six symphony …

“… it’s the voice of a mechanical deity,” Nick’s voice rises a notch over the sound of the engine.

Hünga sits at attention, he’s clipped into the seatbelt on the back seat but has a clear view through to the windscreen – and he barks what sounds like “Go! Go!” … but he’s quickly distracted by woolly sheep rushing by in a blur as we speed past fields sub-divided by wealden dry-stone walls.

The car tail-breaks, the wind whips through the open windows, and we are tethered by the long ribbonous road that dares to keep up with us, and Nick’s thundering laughter drops subsonic — “Fuckin’ finally, I’m flying!”

And I smile as his laughter fills my head; I hear it in his voice, I hear it where old knowledge resides in my bones: it is the answer – to what purpose … it is to feel alive.

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Written for Denise’s Six Sentence Story including the word ‘dip’.   Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified as such in the ALT text or captioned. Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. Imagery and poems/prose ©Misky 2006-2024.