#homemadegloves

At 30 miles per hour the urethane lost all grip. I have grazes on my knees and a swollen bottom lip. He says “Nothing makes you feel more alive than road rash” Licking his lips and wiping Sweat from his moustache.

I don't agree from the floor and look out towards the lake. From up here it looks perfect. So beautiful. Almost fake. I'm sweating from shot nerves and the unforgiving sun. He said I'd be a winner. He said this would be fun.

Rows of foundations line the roadside where we're stood. Ree-bar and a mail box don't make a neighbourhood. I should hear kids on lawns Not my knees and their screams. He rides off and shouts back to me but I don't catch what he means.

My wounds weep in the heat and I'm reminded of riding bikes For the first time in fields and abandoned construction sites. With my brother pedalling faster than I ever could. I never gave up chasing him throughout our childhood.

Now I'm on a mountain, dehydrated and alone. My apartment is down there somewhere but won't call it a home. The view up here is something you have to see to believe... I think maybe he was right about the rash covering my knees.