Well, I really fucked myself this time, I thought. There I stood, 2,712 miles away from home in the middle of a strange city. All I had were whatever meager belongings I could fit in my backpack, as well as about $300 cash, and my best friend’s pet turtle, Orwell.

"It's okay, you don't have to love me," I said pleadingly, "Just please don't leave me, I swear, I will give you all of it." I looked deep into those brown eyes, putting myself at his mercy, or er- her mercy? The duck quacked loudly before turning around and waddling away, rejecting the piece of bread in my outstretched palm. "Fuck you duck!" I screamed, throwing the bread crumb. I leaned back on the park bench, looking at the cloudy sky. First my boyfriend dumps me, then a duck rejects my bread. I closed my eyes, taking deep breaths. Then, I felt a cold wet drop on my forehead. The sky opened up, and it began to pour. I snapped my head forward, in disbelief. Of course. Across the park I heard the sounds of joyful quacking and water splashing. Well, at least the ducks were happy.

He drove like he was trying to get away from something,

at the time I was trying to do the same myself,

so I became his passenger.

We spent countless summer nights

driving through the darkness,

windows rolled down and music blasting.

When we drove into the city,

I watched the lights whip past like shooting stars,

and listened to the sounds of the engine echo through the tunnels.

He was fearless,

in a time when I was afraid of everything,

my knuckles grew white from holding on tight.

Red and blue lights never fazed him,

they were part of the thrill,

after all, he knew the rules just well enough to break them.

Faster and faster we went,

I felt my heart exploding in my chest,

until I wasn’t afraid anymore.