Hyperion Dreams

8 - Two Wheels and a Death Wish

I'm driving on my motorcycle. It's a nice, big, retro style BMW R60, with drum brakes. 

It has a white fairing with black trim. It looks like a police bike.

I'm in the mountains—high speed—it's very dark—no trees on the mountain. It's fall or spring time, so the air is cold and crisp. It's a winding road, and there are dim street lights, the kind that you would expect in the mountains.

I'm coming towards a corner. I realize that I'm going way too fast, and I can't make the corner, but it's too late, I can't hit the brakes strong enough, and I smash through the barrier at full speed.

I fly through the air and rotate on my back as I'm falling down the side of the mountain.

...and then I see myself at the bottom of the cliff, laying there sprawled out, my head turned to the right, in this subdued kind of light, and I'm definitely dead.

And then—AND THEN I wake up—and I'm on my motorcycle!—heading straight for that same corner!—my heart starts beating like crazy and I can't make it!—I can't make it!

Right as I smash through the barrier, there is a yellow sign with black letters. And then I wake up in a cold sweat, breathing hard like I ran a marathon and my heart is beating out of my chest. Look at this! My heart is pounding out of my chest right now!