and we rode home. on the handle bars of a bright blue cruiser, hair flying in the wind, shirt flying in the wind, life flying in the wind.
the night started electrically. literally. a faulty iron rocking me back to life. sending buzzes, crawling around my head. whoa. what just happened?! after overcoming the initial shock and sufficiently googling electrocution to find i wasn’t going to die, i relaxed a little more and put my headache aside.
housework is no good for anyone.
the night was mild, the breeze, cool. still, the energy kept me heated. hard rock, maui, the venue for the nights events. there, it unfolded in bud light, reggae, dreadlocks and whole lot of chest pumping, filthy, intoxicating love. with speakers pounding bass through veins and beer sending warmth through muscles, dancing became an involuntary action. swaying, moving, grooving to every off beat and slinky, funky sound.
“one more song, one more song, one more song,” the cult chanted, not ready to say goodbye. two more songs. screams, whistles, hands in the air, praising.
and we shuffled out, laughing and smiling and feeling relaxed. feeling the love. reggae beats and island living.
so when i hopped on the handle bars of that bright blue cruiser, i didn’t think about anything but that feeling. free. happy. so happy. and my hips were aching from holding my legs up and my heart was pumping from swerves and police scares and my knuckles were white from gripping so hard. but it felt oh, so good.