From: Beyond the Pavement

By Albert Drake
Mill keeps his foot on the gas through the gentle angle and prepares for the bad S curve by shifting up a cog to catch the bend in a power slide. Tires skim the pavement and barely hang to the road rim; he measures the margin of safety by the swirls of dust, the dervish ripples that indicate the right rear tire is two inches of rubber into danger.

Exhaust and engine sing, the country air shatters before the car like glass, and the gauges dance in their circles. He speeds across the sky, down a rainbow, to the inevitable pot of gold of which he dreams. For in the freedom of flight, of fantasy, he is not the pawn of two old men, nor the family buffer, nor his brother's keeper, but: Mill Sederstrom, blazing the last lap toward the ten thousand dollars, the champagne-filled trophy cup, the Hollywood starlet who will pucker hot, moist lips. He will stand on the car seat smiling for the klieg lights of flashbulbs: the boy champion.

c Albert Drake, 1981
ISBN: 0-917976-10-X
All rights reserved. With the exception of quoting passages for the purpose of reviews, no part of this publication may be reproduced without prior written permission of the publisher.

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