The ever-living Ghost

One of my favorite things to do between 10 and 11pm is to ride.  Wined or sober I do this only a couple times a month, but it is always the most sensational.  This sounds so cliche, but I promise you, it is not.  Tearing through the streets as fast as you can.  Blinking LED.  Red light at your back.  Ever since I got my bicycle it has been no holds barred.  I ride multiple times per week during the day to the beach, but this is different.  Twenty miles running and more riding; I can't sit still... and I don't want to.  But when you ride at night, it's like you are in a different dimension.  Favorite album blaring and you can't even remember what set you off to ride.  Sitting on the porch or walking back from the grocery, sack packed full of granola bars, cereal, soda and wine.  It just hits you in the moment that you have to ride.  You have to, and you do.  Down Three Islands, sharp on Atlantic, sharp on Diplomat.  12th, the lake, random turns, down alleys, over the bridge and into sand you walk.  Into the water.  Wishing you had remembered your better half--your bikini bottoms.  But next time you will remember, maybe, and you'll swim in the warm water's tide under the stars and forget about and remember everything all at the same time.  Miami to your right.  Ft. Lauderdale to your left.  You rejoice and you wish that there was someone equally as loving as you to feel it... and you think that there probably is, but for now, you keep it all to yourself.  Yourself.

Goodnight July.

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