Muffled voices, straps pulled tight
- too tight – sweat soaking, everything.
Clammy! I’m clammy and need to pee,
but –
HOLY SHIT, THE NOISE!
An all-encompassing cacophony rents
the air, thunderous, metallic. It settles, and in spite of it reaching in and
plucking at my every sinew there’s rhythm, then . . .
BANG!
Bang, bang, bang and I’m rushing,
thrusting forth at unfathomable speed.
My boobs hurt, bladder’s squeezed,
lungs struggling for air, hot acrid oily air, like sucking on a greasy spoon, and
as my body vibrates, fizzes with the energy, the world outside blurs.
We turn, this way and that, g-force
stretching muscle twisting bone, but I stay fixed, strapped in.
I giggle;
rational thought unavailable.
Time passes, 30, 40, 50, 55.63 seconds,
and then, it subsides, the push, the squeeze, and the hollow sound of those
twelve cylinders, coasting now, is almost calming.
We stop but my body doesn’t.
Air, fresh and inviting, floods in,
replacing the scorch of rubber and hands, helpful hands, assist. I stagger as
I exit, dizzy, but I’m laughing.
Have we the record?
Do I care?
No.
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