Photo by csk
Feel free to join in and respond to the prompt. Please try to keep your response under 300 words. If you reply, I will re-blog your post to my site (sometimes I am slow, but I get there).
The tunnel opened up to curving road, a half circle here, almost-full circle there, knotted twists and turns between. Like always, he was driving too fast, the need to test the limits of his car, his reactions, his fear, drowning him. He’d done it before and he’d do it again. So far, he’d survived, a realization to which he rarely paid attention.
He sped around another curve, tires sliding towards the edge of the cliff, heart pounding with the thrill of almost destruction.
His phone kept ringing. And ringing. He didn’t answer. It would be Jay or Kerry or one of the others, not knowing where he was, but knowing what he was doing. Teasing death. Taunting. Longing. Always on edge.
He’d always known he’d die young. Geniuses did. Look at Kurt Cobain. Jimi Hendrix. Chopin. Mozart. Schubert. Billy the Kid. Joan of Arc. Okay, so the last two weren’t musical geniuses, but that wasn’t the point. The point was they died young.
And yet, here he was. Twenty-five and still alive. Not that, in the overall scheme of things, he wanted to die, but he didn’t see any alternative to the cold edge of darkness sliding knife-edged through his veins.
Jay again on Voice Mail. “Where are you? Don’t do it. Please, Chris. Don’t.”
It was the fear and pain in Jay’s voice that reached him. He could hurt himself without fear, but to hurt his friends? He couldn’t do that.
Slamming on the brakes sent him skidding sideways, struggling for control, seeing the guard rail looming closer and closer. And, for an instant, fear.