{.}

As he comes around the hairpin in his matte black Javelin, Luke is struck by the sight of two motorcycle cops on the verge of the road. The drop-off is steep to the left; on the right there’s a gravel pad on the shoulder of the hill. This is where the cops are. Their bikes aren’t the same model, one has much wider tires than the other. The fat-tired copy is doing a slo-mo wheelie, spinning around in place, only a little faster than a second hand.

The Javelin is the ultimate get-away car. Luke has black vinyl panels he can strap to the hood and the rear; they flap down to cover the plates, the headlights, and the taillights so nothing reflects. You can be in pursuit of this car and it will practically vanish before your eyes. It’s the stealth fighter of the automobile world. Luke gets confused and sometimes calls it a Mustang for no particular reason. Of all the cars ever made, he thinks his ‘72 Javelin has the most predatory profile.

Hours later he rounds the same corner. The cops are still on the dusky verge. Now they’re both doing the wheelie pirouette. They’re not wearing helmets.

Luke isn’t really conscious of pulling off, he’s just aware that now he’s standing near the cops, watching their graceful rotation. The mountain air is crisp. “Must be some updraft,” Luke says. One of the cops replies; it doesn’t really matter what he says.

Luke lies down in the gravel. He can feel it through his jeans, but not through his leather jacket. Nothing happens.

“Must be too heavy,” he says.

“No,” one of the cops counters. “It’s pretty strong.”

Luke shrugs out of his jacket anyway. He’s mildly surprised to see he’s wearing a dress shirt. Its royal blue is even deeper in the twilight. Luke expects to be cold, but it’s not so bad. He lies down in the gravel again; now he feels it digging into his shoulders.

Not for long.

Almost immediately he begins to rise.

His progress is slow, but steady.

Luke doesn’t worry that he will grow hungry; he knows he’s changing. The air grows thinner as he ascends. By the time it’s too thin to breathe, he has changed enough that he no longer needs to.

An unmeasurable time passes.

Eventually, he begins to enter another atmosphere.

Posted in dreamwatch, too much information. You may comment on this entry.