The Night Ride

I crushed through a moment in space, and dropped into blackness. 

I ran, illuminated.

 Cutting through the black, my thoughts pressed against me, throttling.  The machine below me pressed harder, better, more efficient. 

The engine I perched on would withstand the night much longer than I.

Where was I taking myself?  Would it be too long, too far out? Could I just stop? Let the gears tumble down with a few clicks and come safely to a rest? 

My mind could not rest…

I had to keep cutting through the winding dark road. The engine punching, wanting to endure. My thoughts wondering if I could with it-  if I could ride out the infinite quiet, oily night.

Hours passed.

Already, the body’s shoulders were tiring from them ride; all the stress from the day, the week, the year.

I doubted.

Then, a change. The light cracked backed into focus, and I was in it again. Lights yellow and orange. I rode on, collecting more miles. There was a place to rest out there in the night, further ahead. 

I stopped, just as the low fuel light came on. There was fuel—for me and the engine. And lights. And cars . And people walking and talking; troubled and hungry and fat. And a place to stretch my legs, to shrug my shoulders.

From there, I could keep going. I could venture out.