The Midnight Motorist

By Dylan Pommer

As I drove my old motorcycle through the dark midnight, I couldn't help but be awed by the sight of the Milky Way twinkling above me. I was going fast, faster than I should have been. But speed had become a way of life for me, and I was used to it.

The motorcycle was an old classic that my grandfather had bought for a hundred dollars fifty years ago for my dad. He had passed it down to me on my 18th birthday, and I had been riding it ever since. I wore goggles tinted green and a gray jacket that almost reached my knees, with four pockets to hold my belongings.

As I rode on, everything around me flew past in a blur. I didn't care about the speedometer; it was just me and the open road. Suddenly, I hit something and slid off my bike. I saw oil on the ground and cursed under my breath. My engine blew and I was out of gas. I was in the middle of nowhere, lost and alone. I turned on my light, and the road came into view.

I walked around in circles, feeling like I was lost in the middle of nowhere, like a survivor in a post-apocalyptic world. This spot was eerily wild. It was like the desert of Africa and the rainforest of the Amazon in one. Both give off the same feeling. Lost. The feeling of being in the middle of the ocean after the sinking of the Titanic. In the middle of nothing and floating in the water next to the frozen bodies of ice. Just emptiness.

I got out of my mindset and I just kept looking. I took a break and sipped a Coke from a glass bottle that I cracked open since I had no can opener. I nearly cut my mouth with the glass shards.. I felt like I hadn't seen a car in ages, but suddenly a red car drove by but it didn’t stop. It was the first one in five hours, but I had a feeling I was nearing civilization. I threw the bottle into the trees and hid my bike amongst the trees and started walking on that lonely road.

It was a small town, nestled in the middle of nowhere. I felt relieved and pulled in. I parked my bike and went to the nearby diner for a meal. Inside, I saw a woman with a worried look on her face. She was talking to the owner of the diner, who seemed to be her friend.

I overheard them talking about a missing person who had disappeared on a motorcycle. The woman's son had gone missing, and the police were searching for him. As I listened, I realized that the motorcycle they were describing sounded exactly like mine…

To be continued…