*unfolds on side*
*unfolds another side*
*unforlds middle*
Close you mind....breath in through your mouth and out through your nose...picture...
The rain is beating fast and hard. The night is lit by a single lamp, then another light strobes to life. A black leather boot crunches against the gravelly road. A black-gloved hand grips the controls. He stands for a moment, silluetted in that light, hair poured back on the shoulders of his turned down coller, biker's hat resting under his arm. Rain streams down his lether jacket, patters onto the street. He grips the handbars, his feet find the pedels, helmet slides over head, dark eyes watch trhough a visor. His engine roars to life, and he is away...he turns the corner and is gone. The rain flickers in the light of the single lamp, motorbike Steve is out on the town.
See! I tell you is embrasing, and I did not want, as a guy, to be forced to write it. Hey, I'm thinking of starting a Hotline, "Hello, dream calls, for the ultimate mental picture. Callersmustbeover18yearsofage,termsandconditionsapply."
Actually...thinking back, 42.7 is probably wrose...