When I was in high school, one of my best friends had a Volkswagen Jetta that his parents bought him. It was not a particularly nice car, but it wasn’t a terrible car either. My friend used to take this car out late at night and race it down the highways and over the Gold Star Memorial Bridge. He told me that he got his car up to speeds of 120 miles per hour on those dark roads, the lights of the city glinting off the windshield as the lane markers disappeared into a blur. I don’t know if I believe him that his car ever got up to those speeds, but that is what he told me.
Really enjoyed this, and felt this part in particular: “But you just don’t think like that as a young man. The life that everyone has invested so much to give you seems cheap and meaningless.”
Speeding through life, it wasn’t until my mid-twenties that I seriously contemplated what a miracle it is to be alive at all.
Really enjoyed this, and felt this part in particular: “But you just don’t think like that as a young man. The life that everyone has invested so much to give you seems cheap and meaningless.”
Speeding through life, it wasn’t until my mid-twenties that I seriously contemplated what a miracle it is to be alive at all.