Second story in the 'Midnight Rider' series out now on its own brand new Blog ! Check it out at http://rider-midnight.blogspot.com/ and be the first to comment and feedback ! :)
regards
Kevin
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Midnight Rider
This is an original short story I was inspired to write today for a creative writing online journal. I dont know if it will be accepted and published but nonetheless I thought I'd share it with you here. This story is a purely fictional artistic piece of work with fictional characters, with any similiarities to real life persons being purely coincidental. Comments and criticisms are welcome as usual.
Kevin
Kevin
Midnight rider
It was a hot August evening. Nothing was stirring outside except the branches in the hot humid breeze and the lonely calling of a stray cat. In a lonely house he strode purposefully, body glistening fresh out of the shower. The feeling of melancholy deepened as he pulled on a pair of worn jeans and a faded black T-shirt. The burden of a full day’s work weighed heavily on his broad shoulders as he struggled with his riding boots, buckles shining against scuffed leather. Grabbing his helmet he walked down to the garage where his faithful ride stood waiting for him.
Throwing open the garage doors, the waft of oil and metal hit his nostrils, causing him to smile appreciatively. In the dim fluorescent glow of the strip lights his trusty Honda stood waiting, reflections playing off polished alloy and pearlescent paint. Wheeling it outside in the night air, he paused to admire its full muscular look, looking like a mechanical steed ready to be unleashed. It was a look he never grew tired of. Pulling on his helmet, he swung his leg over the stressed leather seat. Thumbing the starter button, the machine came to life with one ferocious roar that immediately settled into a kind of muffled growl. Putting the bike in first gear and slowly letting out the clutch, he felt the familiar feeling as the bike pulled away from the kerb.
Letting the bike warm up for a while, he let his mind wander to the day’s events. He didn’t know how much longer he could take, all the bitching and back stabbing; all the neighing and braying of over zealous work ‘mates’. And then there was her. Her ,whom for a while, was the shining light at the end of a dark tunnel of desolation and loneliness. Her betrayal was a harsh pill to swallow, another one in a long line of failed relationships. How did he sink so low ? Was it really a slippery slope ? Or had he never gotten off the rocky bottom at all ?
A slight change in the exhaust note and the urgent insistent tug beneath him reminded him that optimum temperature had been reached. A slight wrench on the throttle sent the bike surging forward with a wail as the needle raced towards the red zone. Grabbing another gear, he hugged the tank with his knees as he settled down for a white knuckle ride. Streets blended into each other as curve after curve were tackled, interrupted only by short stretches of pockmarked tarmac. Scenery became a blur in the dimly moon-lit night. A gentle breeze was buffeting his helmet, causing the short sleeves on his t-shirt to flap uncontrollably against his skin.
Stopping at a set of traffic lights, he was grateful for the short break as he took the bike’s weight with his right leg. His heart was pounding inside his chest as he looked at the car waiting beside him. A beat up jalopy with misted back windows had pulled up beside him, the young couple inside laughing and giggling. His heart winced as he watched the young female reach inside her partner’s open shirt and lay her head on his chest. The seemingly innocuous gesture reminded him of best forgotten memories; Of a time when joy and laughter ruled his heart. The laughter lines at the corner of his eyes had long since been erased, he realised grimly as the lights turned amber.
Twisting the throttle viciously, he felt his spirits lift just as the front wheel left the tarmac in one graceful arc. Balancing on the rear wheel he struggled to keep the wheel afloat, aware that any slight mistake and he’d be splattering skin and blood on the unforgiving tarmac. Finally he let the wheel gently touch the ground again, feeling the jerk in his upper body. Approaching a tight bend he gripped the tank with his knees and set himself up; elbows out, hanging off the side of the bike. Knee barely grazing the road, he swooped round like a bird of prey, straightening up past the apex and grabbing another handful of throttle. Man and machine became one as he nudged past the last marking on the speedo, bike shuddering slightly as it forced its way through the air. All thoughts melted away as he focused on the road, rapidly falling away as he raced past.
Oh how she used to scream and hug him tight, her frightened yet insistent urgings to go faster and faster! Her sharp little cries as her excitement took her over the edge and her dry sobbing he could hear through her helmet. Her ghost always found itself on the pillion behind him on these lonely rides. He could feel her icy fingers close over his heart as he brought the bike back down to legal speeds.
Pulling up at his destination, he found his t-shirt drenched in cold sweat. Pulling off his helmet he dismounted and stretched his legs. The beach stretched before him, lonely except for the few couples making out in the dark and the clumps of youngsters hunched round glowing embers like some long forgotten tribe. Strains of music, if you could call it that, reached his ringing ears, as he strained to hear the soothing sound of the waves lapping at the sandy beach. Why had he come here? This was where he had brought her on that first ride so many moons ago. Happy memories came flooding back to him as he saw her there, dancing on the sand like the kid she was.
Leaning against the railing he let his mind wander. To love found and lost. To feelings of inadequacies. To emotions of hurt and anger. Her words cutting into him like a red hot knife through butter. His grief at the sound of the slamming door, his guilt in knowing he had driven her away like he had so many others before her. Guilt turned to denial, twisting the facts around to mask the emotions bubbling beneath the surface. With a sigh he wiped away the solitary tear making its way down his grimy cheek.
“Are you alright Mister?” ... startled he looked down at the little girl tugging at his trouser’s leg. Seeing her big blue eyes set against the pearly white of her skin he smiled and ruffled her hair. “Yeah.... Yeah i’ll be alright” he said... “now run along to your parents” as he caught sight of her grief stricken parents, horrified at seeing their precious little angel talking to a grizzled old biker.
Walking over to his still warm bike he looked back over his shoulder. There, outlined by the pale moon he saw her again. Dancing, pirouetting around on the soft sand with what looked like a younger version of him shimmering faintly beside her. Pulling on his helmet and thumbing the bike to life he gave the vision one last look. She waved and blew him a kiss. Leaving her exorcised ghost on the beach, he roared away.
“..I’ll be alright” he had told the little girl. Hugging the tank he realised that yes, he would be ok. As long as the tank was full and he could still hold on to the handlebars he would always be ok.
It was a hot August evening. Nothing was stirring outside except the branches in the hot humid breeze and the lonely calling of a stray cat. In a lonely house he strode purposefully, body glistening fresh out of the shower. The feeling of melancholy deepened as he pulled on a pair of worn jeans and a faded black T-shirt. The burden of a full day’s work weighed heavily on his broad shoulders as he struggled with his riding boots, buckles shining against scuffed leather. Grabbing his helmet he walked down to the garage where his faithful ride stood waiting for him.
Throwing open the garage doors, the waft of oil and metal hit his nostrils, causing him to smile appreciatively. In the dim fluorescent glow of the strip lights his trusty Honda stood waiting, reflections playing off polished alloy and pearlescent paint. Wheeling it outside in the night air, he paused to admire its full muscular look, looking like a mechanical steed ready to be unleashed. It was a look he never grew tired of. Pulling on his helmet, he swung his leg over the stressed leather seat. Thumbing the starter button, the machine came to life with one ferocious roar that immediately settled into a kind of muffled growl. Putting the bike in first gear and slowly letting out the clutch, he felt the familiar feeling as the bike pulled away from the kerb.
Letting the bike warm up for a while, he let his mind wander to the day’s events. He didn’t know how much longer he could take, all the bitching and back stabbing; all the neighing and braying of over zealous work ‘mates’. And then there was her. Her ,whom for a while, was the shining light at the end of a dark tunnel of desolation and loneliness. Her betrayal was a harsh pill to swallow, another one in a long line of failed relationships. How did he sink so low ? Was it really a slippery slope ? Or had he never gotten off the rocky bottom at all ?
A slight change in the exhaust note and the urgent insistent tug beneath him reminded him that optimum temperature had been reached. A slight wrench on the throttle sent the bike surging forward with a wail as the needle raced towards the red zone. Grabbing another gear, he hugged the tank with his knees as he settled down for a white knuckle ride. Streets blended into each other as curve after curve were tackled, interrupted only by short stretches of pockmarked tarmac. Scenery became a blur in the dimly moon-lit night. A gentle breeze was buffeting his helmet, causing the short sleeves on his t-shirt to flap uncontrollably against his skin.
Stopping at a set of traffic lights, he was grateful for the short break as he took the bike’s weight with his right leg. His heart was pounding inside his chest as he looked at the car waiting beside him. A beat up jalopy with misted back windows had pulled up beside him, the young couple inside laughing and giggling. His heart winced as he watched the young female reach inside her partner’s open shirt and lay her head on his chest. The seemingly innocuous gesture reminded him of best forgotten memories; Of a time when joy and laughter ruled his heart. The laughter lines at the corner of his eyes had long since been erased, he realised grimly as the lights turned amber.
Twisting the throttle viciously, he felt his spirits lift just as the front wheel left the tarmac in one graceful arc. Balancing on the rear wheel he struggled to keep the wheel afloat, aware that any slight mistake and he’d be splattering skin and blood on the unforgiving tarmac. Finally he let the wheel gently touch the ground again, feeling the jerk in his upper body. Approaching a tight bend he gripped the tank with his knees and set himself up; elbows out, hanging off the side of the bike. Knee barely grazing the road, he swooped round like a bird of prey, straightening up past the apex and grabbing another handful of throttle. Man and machine became one as he nudged past the last marking on the speedo, bike shuddering slightly as it forced its way through the air. All thoughts melted away as he focused on the road, rapidly falling away as he raced past.
Oh how she used to scream and hug him tight, her frightened yet insistent urgings to go faster and faster! Her sharp little cries as her excitement took her over the edge and her dry sobbing he could hear through her helmet. Her ghost always found itself on the pillion behind him on these lonely rides. He could feel her icy fingers close over his heart as he brought the bike back down to legal speeds.
Pulling up at his destination, he found his t-shirt drenched in cold sweat. Pulling off his helmet he dismounted and stretched his legs. The beach stretched before him, lonely except for the few couples making out in the dark and the clumps of youngsters hunched round glowing embers like some long forgotten tribe. Strains of music, if you could call it that, reached his ringing ears, as he strained to hear the soothing sound of the waves lapping at the sandy beach. Why had he come here? This was where he had brought her on that first ride so many moons ago. Happy memories came flooding back to him as he saw her there, dancing on the sand like the kid she was.
Leaning against the railing he let his mind wander. To love found and lost. To feelings of inadequacies. To emotions of hurt and anger. Her words cutting into him like a red hot knife through butter. His grief at the sound of the slamming door, his guilt in knowing he had driven her away like he had so many others before her. Guilt turned to denial, twisting the facts around to mask the emotions bubbling beneath the surface. With a sigh he wiped away the solitary tear making its way down his grimy cheek.
“Are you alright Mister?” ... startled he looked down at the little girl tugging at his trouser’s leg. Seeing her big blue eyes set against the pearly white of her skin he smiled and ruffled her hair. “Yeah.... Yeah i’ll be alright” he said... “now run along to your parents” as he caught sight of her grief stricken parents, horrified at seeing their precious little angel talking to a grizzled old biker.
Walking over to his still warm bike he looked back over his shoulder. There, outlined by the pale moon he saw her again. Dancing, pirouetting around on the soft sand with what looked like a younger version of him shimmering faintly beside her. Pulling on his helmet and thumbing the bike to life he gave the vision one last look. She waved and blew him a kiss. Leaving her exorcised ghost on the beach, he roared away.
“..I’ll be alright” he had told the little girl. Hugging the tank he realised that yes, he would be ok. As long as the tank was full and he could still hold on to the handlebars he would always be ok.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
A Biker's Prayer
I ride 'em hard,
I ride 'em strong
But this ole road, Lord, is getting long
Lonely, tough and sometimes
Hard to bear
*
I know I'm called
I won't back down
Though I may wind up in the ground
I won't give up until they know
You care
*
Lord, give this biker
Strength I pray
To face whatever comes my way
And wisdom as I walk
Through Satan's lair
*
Then, when at last
My job is done
And when You take this biker home
I'll thank You cause You heard
This biker's prayer
But this ole road, Lord, is getting long
Lonely, tough and sometimes
Hard to bear
*
I know I'm called
I won't back down
Though I may wind up in the ground
I won't give up until they know
You care
*
Lord, give this biker
Strength I pray
To face whatever comes my way
And wisdom as I walk
Through Satan's lair
*
Then, when at last
My job is done
And when You take this biker home
I'll thank You cause You heard
This biker's prayer
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Desperado
Don't you draw the queen of diamonds boy
She'll beat you if she's able.
You know the queen of hearts is always your best bet.
Now it seems to me, some fine things
Have been laid upon your table.
But you only want the ones
That you can't get.
Ahhh...Music.... its one of my greatest joys in life.... good old fashioned classic Rock.... I love listening to songs with good Lyrics ... i dont really hear music as am a bit tone deaf ...hehe. Sometimes i find myself drawing parallels between what i'm going through in life and particular songs. Right now i'm rather particular to 'Desperado' by The Eagles (1973) as the lyrics just struck a chord (pardon the pun ! )hehe with certain aspects of my life....
so play that song one more time ! :)
so play that song one more time ! :)
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Sometimes you've gotta fight when you're a man
Promise me, son, not to do the things I've done.
Walk away from trouble if you can.
Now it don't mean you re weak if you turn the other cheek.
I hope you re old enough to understand:
Son, you don't have to fight to be a man.
Walk away from trouble if you can.
Now it don't mean you re weak if you turn the other cheek.
I hope you re old enough to understand:
Son, you don't have to fight to be a man.
These lyrics by Kenny Rogers were repeated to me by my father after coming home from school after yet another fight. Hehe he could never understand why I used to get into these fights... why i couldn't just walk away. The truth was dat d first couple of years in junior lyceum i was bullied...i was bullied on a daily basis. Why ? boq...i dunno... i was good in school i guess ... and i was a bit fat... and i was a loner so i guess dat singled me out as being 'different' and an easy prey. Those 2 years were hell i guess ... everyday living in fear and wondering if I'd be beaten up again uselessly, senselessly and without a reason . I never told my parents this....and it drove me deeper into myself... books being my only friends and companions... My parents had a hard time understanding why and how i was becoming ever more sullen and silent and alone.
Then something in me snapped... it happened during break time in the beginning of my third year. I was surrounded by almost d whole class again ! ....left in d middle, being pushed around by the class bully whilst the others jeered and laughed and pushed back. And 2 years of silent rage pent up inside me let loose in a single punch dat floored d bully with a broken jaw. That did it for me ... wit that single punch something was unleashed in me... i no longer fought cause i was oppressed. I fought cause i was challenged by an increasing number of bullies who wanted to measure themselves up against me... i was gaining something of a reputation... i gained a nickname too... something that stuck with me till d end of Junior college...some 5 years... I also developed a deep and passionate hatred towards all forms of bullying.... often beating d hell out of anyone i caught bullying anyone smaller then themselves.
Anyway....in Junior college i met a guy who introduced me to the discipline of martial arts. He taught me to control myself, suppress the anger and rage inside, only to be unleashed when necessary. Himself being a loner we quickly and firmly established a friendship which is still going strong to this very day.
What inspired me to write this post ? well... an incident happened a week or so ago where after almost 7 years i had to intervene in a fight and something almost triggered the rage inside me to surface. I was out wit some friends at a nightclub after a decent meal and drinks and playing pool. And one of my friends was a bit drunk and threw up in d club's toilets and was shown out by the bouncers there. Being a bit tipsy he goaded the bouncers who very unprofessionally went for him and started beating him up.... naturally i couldn't let that happen so i intervened and pulled two bouncers off .... my friend struck one of d bouncers and took off like a hare down d road followed by 3 or 4 bouncers in hot pursuit.... my friend's girlfriend in d meantime having heard d commotion came running out of d club after her bf.... whereas she was struck by one of d bouncers and sent flying ... the bouncer made as if to go after her again and dat was it.... i snapped.... in two strides i was in between them and in d bouncer's face who went berserk and started throwing punches. It took all of my self control to restrict myself to just blocking and locking and didn't start gthrowing punches myself, which was a good thing as i quickly found myself surrounded by the other 3 bouncers. luckily i came away from that fight without a scratch on me but it could have turned very ugly indeed had i lost control and started fighting. So Dad in a way i did keep my promise....i didnt fight... but hell if i see someone strike a woman ? ...all bets are off and d gloves come off...
Then something in me snapped... it happened during break time in the beginning of my third year. I was surrounded by almost d whole class again ! ....left in d middle, being pushed around by the class bully whilst the others jeered and laughed and pushed back. And 2 years of silent rage pent up inside me let loose in a single punch dat floored d bully with a broken jaw. That did it for me ... wit that single punch something was unleashed in me... i no longer fought cause i was oppressed. I fought cause i was challenged by an increasing number of bullies who wanted to measure themselves up against me... i was gaining something of a reputation... i gained a nickname too... something that stuck with me till d end of Junior college...some 5 years... I also developed a deep and passionate hatred towards all forms of bullying.... often beating d hell out of anyone i caught bullying anyone smaller then themselves.
Anyway....in Junior college i met a guy who introduced me to the discipline of martial arts. He taught me to control myself, suppress the anger and rage inside, only to be unleashed when necessary. Himself being a loner we quickly and firmly established a friendship which is still going strong to this very day.
What inspired me to write this post ? well... an incident happened a week or so ago where after almost 7 years i had to intervene in a fight and something almost triggered the rage inside me to surface. I was out wit some friends at a nightclub after a decent meal and drinks and playing pool. And one of my friends was a bit drunk and threw up in d club's toilets and was shown out by the bouncers there. Being a bit tipsy he goaded the bouncers who very unprofessionally went for him and started beating him up.... naturally i couldn't let that happen so i intervened and pulled two bouncers off .... my friend struck one of d bouncers and took off like a hare down d road followed by 3 or 4 bouncers in hot pursuit.... my friend's girlfriend in d meantime having heard d commotion came running out of d club after her bf.... whereas she was struck by one of d bouncers and sent flying ... the bouncer made as if to go after her again and dat was it.... i snapped.... in two strides i was in between them and in d bouncer's face who went berserk and started throwing punches. It took all of my self control to restrict myself to just blocking and locking and didn't start gthrowing punches myself, which was a good thing as i quickly found myself surrounded by the other 3 bouncers. luckily i came away from that fight without a scratch on me but it could have turned very ugly indeed had i lost control and started fighting. So Dad in a way i did keep my promise....i didnt fight... but hell if i see someone strike a woman ? ...all bets are off and d gloves come off...
I promised you, dad, not to do the things you've done.
I'll walk away from trouble when I can.
Now please dont think I'm weak, I didn't turn the other cheek,
papa, I sure hope you understand:
Sometimes you gotta fight when you're a man
Artist: Rogers Kenny
I'll walk away from trouble when I can.
Now please dont think I'm weak, I didn't turn the other cheek,
papa, I sure hope you understand:
Sometimes you gotta fight when you're a man
Artist: Rogers Kenny
Song: Coward of the County
Album: 20 Golden Greats
Friday, March 21, 2008
The only time i feel alive is when i'm close to death...
Sometimes i wonder if its worth living at all.
My life lately has been revolving around my work. Whilst it is challenging it seems to be eating up a lot of my time, sapping my energy in d process. I'm spending more and more hours there at work which doesnt really leave me a lot of time to do anything else. My social life has become practically non existant, my recreation limited to d weekend runs on my bike or d one volleyball session i manage to cram in a week..... Having been a guy who used to enjoy being active in a whole lot of different activities on a weekly basis its starting to get to me this feeling of living only for work.
I feel as if i've fallen into a routine; a routine which has taken over my very existance and dat somehow i just cant break free. At times it feels as if i'm just existing ....and not living. I've had to sacrifice a lot to get to where i am now in life and looking back i often find myself asking ,"Is it worth it?" Is this realy wat i wanted ? To be so career focused that everything else becomes second rate ? Even possibly insignificant ? Giving up quality time with my family, giving up martial arts, giving up my friends, hell i even had to choose between someone i really cared about and my career ! I once read that its lonely on d way to the top....heck if thats true and i havent even really begun climbing the corporate ladder then i dont really wanna think about wats it like at d top !
D only time i'm fee;ling as if i'm alive is when i'm going flat out on my bike. My mate Nick said that though i'm a really good rider i've started taking unneccessary risks and perhaps am getting a bit too cocky on d bike. Whilst i trust his judgement seeing as he's one of d best riders on d island, i've started to think that perhaps d reason i am subconsciously taking all these risks is to get that adrenaline rush that only comes with laying ur life on d line. I know this may sound really foolhardy and idiotic....and it probably is but right now its d only thing dats getting my heart beatng faster. Hehe ..well that and a certain someone... someone who probably doesnt even realise d effect she has one me ;)
I dont want anyone reading this thinking i have a deathwish or something.... but its just that sometimes its dat little bit of excitement which keeps us going when everything seems so dark. Everyone has them ... these little vices they look forward to...like dat cigarette smoked in between coffee breaks, or the alcohol binge in d weekend....or d drugs injected in their bodies... Me ? i dont smoke, i dont drink, ...at least not toooo much ;), and i dont do drugs....
My addiction ? Its speed...and laying my life on d line ...its an addiction which shows no sign of abetting...
My life lately has been revolving around my work. Whilst it is challenging it seems to be eating up a lot of my time, sapping my energy in d process. I'm spending more and more hours there at work which doesnt really leave me a lot of time to do anything else. My social life has become practically non existant, my recreation limited to d weekend runs on my bike or d one volleyball session i manage to cram in a week..... Having been a guy who used to enjoy being active in a whole lot of different activities on a weekly basis its starting to get to me this feeling of living only for work.
I feel as if i've fallen into a routine; a routine which has taken over my very existance and dat somehow i just cant break free. At times it feels as if i'm just existing ....and not living. I've had to sacrifice a lot to get to where i am now in life and looking back i often find myself asking ,"Is it worth it?" Is this realy wat i wanted ? To be so career focused that everything else becomes second rate ? Even possibly insignificant ? Giving up quality time with my family, giving up martial arts, giving up my friends, hell i even had to choose between someone i really cared about and my career ! I once read that its lonely on d way to the top....heck if thats true and i havent even really begun climbing the corporate ladder then i dont really wanna think about wats it like at d top !
D only time i'm fee;ling as if i'm alive is when i'm going flat out on my bike. My mate Nick said that though i'm a really good rider i've started taking unneccessary risks and perhaps am getting a bit too cocky on d bike. Whilst i trust his judgement seeing as he's one of d best riders on d island, i've started to think that perhaps d reason i am subconsciously taking all these risks is to get that adrenaline rush that only comes with laying ur life on d line. I know this may sound really foolhardy and idiotic....and it probably is but right now its d only thing dats getting my heart beatng faster. Hehe ..well that and a certain someone... someone who probably doesnt even realise d effect she has one me ;)
I dont want anyone reading this thinking i have a deathwish or something.... but its just that sometimes its dat little bit of excitement which keeps us going when everything seems so dark. Everyone has them ... these little vices they look forward to...like dat cigarette smoked in between coffee breaks, or the alcohol binge in d weekend....or d drugs injected in their bodies... Me ? i dont smoke, i dont drink, ...at least not toooo much ;), and i dont do drugs....
My addiction ? Its speed...and laying my life on d line ...its an addiction which shows no sign of abetting...
Friday, March 14, 2008
Gozo ....as i've never seen it before ;)
Last Wednesday i had the opportunity to go up to Gozo for a day with my mate Marco. We took the bikes up and since both of our bikes are trail bikes we stuck to country roads and B-roads. I must confess that i get completely lost as soon as i step off the ferry hehe but luckily Marco knew Gozo like the back of his hand and was able to show me a couple of sites i had never seen before. Wish i knew were they were though hehe but am sure i'd manage to find them again :)
The bikes performed brilliantly though it was a bit too windy for my taste. I've only been riding for around 6 months now and though am a fairly good rider there were a couple of sections i was pretty damn well scared shitless ! Anyway it was damn good to be out in the country, away from the hassle and stress of work. And to be doing it in the middle of the week made it even more satisfying !
All in all it was a very enjoyable day and very welcome it was to though it has made me restless and all week all i could think of was getting back on d bike ! :)
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