The autobiography of a woman; by Waldorfia
Before I knew it we were in his bright red F430 Ferrari convertible. Jason had the headlights on before we reached the car. They were slanted like cat eyes. The engine compartment panel behind the seats was transparent to expose the monster that propelled the Ferrari. The individual roll bars behind each seat drew attention to the person sitting there.
I liked that.
The engine purred its way out of the parking lot. Once we reached the street it roared and leapt like a cougar. It appeared to find its own way from the streets to the highway and then on to the Pennsylvania Turnpike.
It was a beautiful warm evening. To top it off, the evening was still young. I could feel my blond hair trailing behind me.
The memories of home returned and I wondered what my dad and brother were doing at that moment.
Jason turned on the radar detector and exercised the engine. I looked over at the speedometer. It read 100 MPH. I was a little afraid but was excited. It reminded me of that tingling feeling I felt on Alex’s motorcycle.
I pushed the guilty memory from my mind. This was a new day, a new life and a new man.