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What follows is offered in response to Velvet Verbosity's 100 Word Challenge. The challenge, this week, is "Contorted".
He leaned over the tank, getting down behind the windshield, feeling the bike's vibrations in the top of his thighs as he eased off the throttle and pushed down on the right hand grip. The big bike dove into the tight, contorted right twist in the road. He rolled on enough throttle to keep his speed constant, pressing him down into the seat and making the engine purr like a big, throaty cat. As he accelerated out of the end of the turn he straightened up in the seat and let the engine roar as he shot into the straightaway.
Ndinombethe.
7 comments:
superb! love the feeling...
This will probably be the closest I come to riding a motorcycle!
... great description of an experienced rider mounting a bike... it would go well stitched into a romantic story..!
Motorcycles = bad. Love, Daughter of Nurse.
But I still liked the poem!
You are Easy Rider...
Well written by someone who obviously loves their ride!
What Robyn said. :) Though I've ridden a motorcycle, just haven't driven one myself. I'd love to but not enough to get a separate license and to have a tiny motorcycle custom made for my short little frame. :P
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