Heavens-Racer: Velcro

A Story by Abishai100

Narrated portrait of road-racing/driving 'consciousness' drawing a bound-Romanticism for what's (simply) dictionary.

A portrait of speed-racing and the consciousness-impact of thoughtful 'examinations' of roadway(s)-dangers, and loosely drawn from the speed-imagination and darkness-detection themes/imagery from the awesome racer-hyperbole cartoon Speed Racer, which I think you'll like (and thanks for reading),

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I'm a road-warrior, a speedy racer, and my name's Amlan Satan. I drive a sporty Saab 9-3, and I paint it for races/speeding (Autobahn, Indiana, etc.) and keep it solid-citizenry colored for regular Saturday drives at 7am, and I stop at traffic-lights for these weekend jaunts for meditation and shift the automatic-position to 'Park' while the car's dead-in-traffic, and then I s**t it to 'Drive' position when the light turns green. I like Selfie-culture commentary about the dangers/uncertainty of car-control(s) and the manual-handling feeling of feeling like my auto's a 'hologram' for what's (simply) decision-making (for the Ego).

I'm the Heavens-Racer, and I wear Velcro-racer gloves/mitts for handling my wheel like it's a game-challenge for what's that thoughtfulness of controlling my road-machine like it's a wheel-turning speed-camera (wow). Well, this is the story of how a race-model lady humbled me, and she turned me into a road-engines design thinker and less of a roadway(s) dancer for Selfie-commentary (for the Ego!).

DELIA: New gloves for my Heavens-Racer.

ME: Thanx, Delia; they're as great as any others I've had or boasted (thanx).

DELIA: You're so much calmer now, Mr. Satan.

ME: I'm becoming a family-man me thinks with you me thinks for you (ha).

DELIA: Is that a proposition or glove-reciprocity?

ME: Both (for you).

DELIA: We'll see, Mr. Satan, we'll see...

As the Heavens-Racer I'd always been something of a roadway(s) 'musketeer' and reflected this deep-thought with this special mask I liked donning as a visage-message for what's the line for speed/racing doubt(s). The way I see it, racer-consciousness (maybe) is divided between speed-imagery and dangers-handling, and my 9-3 is the idealized 'vehicle' for what's Selfie-culture commentary for auto-road divinity (for the Ego).

There ain't nothing 'splendid' about an auto-crash, be it in a race-line or in a citizen's roadway(s) line, anywhere, anywhere on Earth! It's an American Tragedy, a Euro-disaster, an Asian mishap, an Aussie-sadness (etc.). That's why I casted myself as a social media 'friendly' messenger of what's (simply) the language-arts of consciousness for direction (hmmm).

DELIA: I worry too you know.

ME: About us?
DELIA: About you being a speedy-man, Mr. Satan.

ME: I'm thinkin' grilled filet-mignons with cheese for V-Day.

DELIA: And a diamond-ring (Facebook like).

ME: That's cool!

What Delia didn't know was I was recruited for an insider 'game' of backgammon (Interpol-relation?) reflected of a world-capitalism 'intelligence' duty free examination in Arles (Europe), requiring an incomplete-distances reading for what's life blended with (insured) diamond-transport bureaus for an retirement/IRA 'laurel' for the intelligence-books (sure).

DELIA: That's the craziest claim you've made to me.

ME: It's true...I was like the Masked Racer!

DELIA: Let's just get that flick on Netflix, for V-Day.

ME: Very cool (thanx).

Why'd I always wear these racer-icon Velcro-gloves/mitts for my auto-consciousness, you (maybe) ask? That's what Delia wanted to know (too), and I gifted her with a complement-ornament (too), a see-thru cigarette-lighter which was also a flashlight, but I made her promise me she'd quit smoking and use the toy to light incense sticks (for V-Day!).

DELIA: This is Facebook like.

ME: Cool (thanx).

I don't want Delia to become my Galatea. I'd rather become her 'James Bond' fan of films and family-values (now!).

DELIA: These are great, Mr. Satan.

ME: I've always been a 'pro' with grilling/cooking.

DELIA: Hell's Kitchen to Heavens-Kitchen, ok.

ME: Without doubt(s)...I love you.

DELIA: I know that (thanx).

This Earthling-world's seen much darkness and black-smoke, and auto-crashes don't offer (any) medicine for therapy, which is why this Heavens-Racer is know (deep) thinking about Romanticism offering a left-hand off-highway 'detour' to a small-town for Saturday 7am town-diner visits (with Delia) to enjoy bread/fruit and (simply) forget all about 9/11 (or anything of a 'dialysis' quanta).