/lit/ - Literature

just a short bit of prose I was working on yesterday

The street lights slide by like shooting stars, and your breath fogs gray against the chill night. The lights cut to black as you cross city bounds. The engine growls as you reach the top of the hill. No resistance, only acceleration. You feel yourself sucked upward as the car begins to descend. The tires and road share only the lightest touch, just enough to keep you from flying as you plummet down into the valley. Tearing through black country roads and leaving a solid streak of electric white ink.