Written for the gearheads, by me... - Beyond Tiki

H hewey Tiki Socialite Sydney, Australia Joined: Sep 14, 2004 Posts: 4283	H hewey Posted posted on Tue, Feb 8, 2005 7:27 PM Here is a short piece of writing I did (just for kicks). It has since been published in Australia in Cruzin magazine (rods and customs). I figured the gearheads on here might get a kick out of it. JUST DRIVING A full moon lit up the streetscape, creating deep shadows in the many crevices along its flanks. The air was sultry and oppressive. There was a slight breeze, wind chimes rang eerily into the gaping sky. The streets were deserted. The only life to be seen were a couple of alley cats. Filthy and with matted fur, they perused the garbage bins in the side alleys for a midnight meal. Startled, they stopped their scrutiny of the trash and looked up the street. The Ford roared along the quite street, a snarl emitting from the lakes pipes as the blown hemi was given its leash. Dogs howled and the alley cats bolted, a flash of fur into the shadows. The coupe (a ’39 to be exact) slithered past, the satin black duco dimly reflecting the streetlights. It was sleek, being de-chromed with a considerable roof chop and moon discs all round. A dinosaur from a forgotten time, the 426 monster was pushing a good 100mph. Inside, the driver stared intently ahead. He wasn’t going anywhere, but he wasn’t running either. He was just driving. A lone wolf prowling about just for the hell of it. He wasn’t even thinking on a conscious level, just steering and pushing the pedals with an ingrained intuition. Life was so simple in these moments. No bills. No work. No problems. No bullshit. All that mattered was the sweet noise of the hemi as it reverberated off buildings and fences. This was life in it’s most pure form. Living for the moment and enjoying every second. Revelling in the simple act of escaping daily life. A moment when man and machine felt as one. Within the coupe, the driver smirked. Life was good. I am thinking about doing some more. Maybe some tiki style stuff - try and make it all dark and moody and make a really creepy kind of atmosphere. Kind of voodoo and black magic type vibe. I dont know, maybe I just read too much stephen king. Everyone laughs at me because I am different. I laugh at everyone else because they are all the same. [ Edited by: hewey on 2005-06-11 05:34 ]

Here is a short piece of writing I did (just for kicks). It has since been published in Australia in Cruzin magazine (rods and customs). I figured the gearheads on here might get a kick out of it.

JUST DRIVING
A full moon lit up the streetscape, creating deep shadows in the many crevices along its flanks. The air was sultry and oppressive. There was a slight breeze, wind chimes rang eerily into the gaping sky. The streets were deserted. The only life to be seen were a couple of alley cats. Filthy and with matted fur, they perused the garbage bins in the side alleys for a midnight meal. Startled, they stopped their scrutiny of the trash and looked up the street.

The Ford roared along the quite street, a snarl emitting from the lakes pipes as the blown hemi was given its leash. Dogs howled and the alley cats bolted, a flash of fur into the shadows. The coupe (a ’39 to be exact) slithered past, the satin black duco dimly reflecting the streetlights. It was sleek, being de-chromed with a considerable roof chop and moon discs all round. A dinosaur from a forgotten time, the 426 monster was pushing a good 100mph.

Inside, the driver stared intently ahead. He wasn’t going anywhere, but he wasn’t running either. He was just driving. A lone wolf prowling about just for the hell of it. He wasn’t even thinking on a conscious level, just steering and pushing the pedals with an ingrained intuition. Life was so simple in these moments. No bills. No work. No problems. No bullshit. All that mattered was the sweet noise of the hemi as it reverberated off buildings and fences. This was life in it’s most pure form. Living for the moment and enjoying every second. Revelling in the simple act of escaping daily life. A moment when man and machine felt as one.

Within the coupe, the driver smirked. Life was good.

I am thinking about doing some more. Maybe some tiki style stuff - try and make it all dark and moody and make a really creepy kind of atmosphere. Kind of voodoo and black magic type vibe. I dont know, maybe I just read too much stephen king.

Everyone laughs at me because I am different. I laugh at everyone else because they are all the same.

[ Edited by: hewey on 2005-06-11 05:34 ]