There I was. Driving home on my rocket. It was night, and it was dark. As dark as night's usually are. Unusally low clouds rolled over my head, threatening to settle over that forgotten stretch of highway. Threatening to release their pent-up frustration on me. I tightened my grip on the throttle and bend my wrist back. Dull pain cursed the nerves where I had snapped the radius a few years back, but the steady, slow pump of adrenaline that coursed my pulsing veins absorbed the cramp and left my heart skipping beats. My engine spoke sweetly beneath me, begging for more. I complied, opening the throttle another half inch. The wind grabbed my hair and lashed at my neck. I crouched on the tank's smooth design as the overhead air rumbled with an omniscient presence. My mirrors lit with heavens fireworks, screaming at me to give up and let nature take what's left of me. The air became thick and heavy. I was drinking oxygen through a straw. Constant thunder seemed to drive gravity...