Jakesword

The wind whips my hair softly, causing it to flow behind me, as the roar of the engine pulls the zooming bike towards the horizan. The lush greenery that is the countryside blurs softly as I speed past, under the near-clear blue sky, small white patches of cloud sift slowly overhead. Lines pass by on the asphalt, counters of the distance I've traveled this road, the curves I hug tighly as I pass by them. The road straightens out for a long, clear stretch, calling for someone to speed down the empty spance. I reply, gripping the throttle and twisting, the engine's roar boomed loudly, laughing childishly, as the bike took flight down the ol