The sun is shining, the day is bright, a solitary cardinal chirps from a wobbling branch. It is a Tuesday, and the day is off to a start dreaded so many times by the man beneath the pale white sheets. He wakes and realizes his life is spinning, swirling out of control, with no grips in sight. The concrete jungle is calling him to join the herds of suits and ties, skirts and dresses, battling each other to grab the next rung on the corporate ladder of success. From his bloodshot eyes he stares at the weathered oak table and sees his lone solace in this place of fire and brimstone....a shiny silver key enscribed with the crimson letters 'NSX'.
Sitting upright and cursing the world, his split personality is setting in for the day...two lives on separate courses. The driver and the corporate slave. From a far away voice he hears a hollow sound calling him to drive, to leave this enormous shitstorm of meetings and cellphone calls, Blackberry messages and emails, and just drive. Drive until there is no more gas in the car or roads to ravage. From the other side he hears a stronger voice yelling for him to get his ass to work for the money will not make itself. What? Does he think he can just sit here all day and dream? HA!! Right.....not today, probably not tomorrow either. The python has him. His daily life has him and is slowly choking the life from his lungs. He can hardly breathe today. As another passing day closes and a new one begins, he feels himself dying and wondering why.
Dressed in his uniform of pressed suit and tie he grabs his lifeline, his keys to survival, the aluminum key that opens his heart and soul and heads for the hangar that hold his jetway to freedom. The door swings open and daylight enters. Dancing on Grand Prix White curves, and smoke black windows, this is where his other life begins....if only for the moment.
A twist of the key and blip of the gas, and the whole world disappears. With a few silky smooth shift he is on the freeway momentarily able to feel life the way it should be. Free from worry, free from cares, and free from the person his he for 23 hours of the day. Shrieking down the expressway he is one with a machine...one with a life he feared was no longer his. The life of the driver. Air rushes by, the engine sings a symphonic song. Cars become blurs of red and blue, as his blood begins to pump and adrenaline races. Speeds become fast and his smile cracks quickly as he remebers his life the way is should have been.
Then with a smack and a crack he feels his stomach twist and his heart dies as he coasts into the holding lot of the private corporate hell he lives in during the day. His other life takes over and shoves the driver out. 'Get your ass to work,' is all he hears now. One life pays for the other, but the lives do not agree. The lives of the driver and his outter life have collided again as they do every day. One day it will end he tells himself....one day, I will be free. Just not today.
Sitting upright and cursing the world, his split personality is setting in for the day...two lives on separate courses. The driver and the corporate slave. From a far away voice he hears a hollow sound calling him to drive, to leave this enormous shitstorm of meetings and cellphone calls, Blackberry messages and emails, and just drive. Drive until there is no more gas in the car or roads to ravage. From the other side he hears a stronger voice yelling for him to get his ass to work for the money will not make itself. What? Does he think he can just sit here all day and dream? HA!! Right.....not today, probably not tomorrow either. The python has him. His daily life has him and is slowly choking the life from his lungs. He can hardly breathe today. As another passing day closes and a new one begins, he feels himself dying and wondering why.
Dressed in his uniform of pressed suit and tie he grabs his lifeline, his keys to survival, the aluminum key that opens his heart and soul and heads for the hangar that hold his jetway to freedom. The door swings open and daylight enters. Dancing on Grand Prix White curves, and smoke black windows, this is where his other life begins....if only for the moment.
A twist of the key and blip of the gas, and the whole world disappears. With a few silky smooth shift he is on the freeway momentarily able to feel life the way it should be. Free from worry, free from cares, and free from the person his he for 23 hours of the day. Shrieking down the expressway he is one with a machine...one with a life he feared was no longer his. The life of the driver. Air rushes by, the engine sings a symphonic song. Cars become blurs of red and blue, as his blood begins to pump and adrenaline races. Speeds become fast and his smile cracks quickly as he remebers his life the way is should have been.
Then with a smack and a crack he feels his stomach twist and his heart dies as he coasts into the holding lot of the private corporate hell he lives in during the day. His other life takes over and shoves the driver out. 'Get your ass to work,' is all he hears now. One life pays for the other, but the lives do not agree. The lives of the driver and his outter life have collided again as they do every day. One day it will end he tells himself....one day, I will be free. Just not today.
) Did you write that yourself, and do you write as a hobby/profession?
