Sea Firefly

Tonight's mood is Sea Firefly. As the toll gate bar comes down, I realize I forgot my card, so the midnight discount is gone and I pay the angry full price in cash. There's a burnout in my head and an over-rev in my heart, and the throttle slams the meter into the black. Riding the momentum I take the wrong split and shoot straight into the undersea tunnel, my heart in the dark too, oh my God. My midsummer outfit feels colder than I thought at midnight, but inside I stay steady, long hair flying in the wind. And if I've passed the parking, the toll waits for me again on the way home, and my cash turns into tears. Still that beacon glows like a sea firefly and pulls me back. A high-speed midnight chase toward a glowing star over the bay.

Tonight I point the bike toward the bay, the shoreline lights drawing long bright lines across the dark water. At the toll gate the bar drops and I check my pocket—no card tonight—so the midnight discount slips away and I pay the angry full price, four thousand in cash, and breathe out into the midnight. There's a burnout in my head and an over-rev in my heart. I hold the line anyway, one more twist of the throttle, the meter blacking out, my eyes aligned with the road.