We rise, the rhythmic racket of clank and clatter ratcheting our excitement skyward. We wait, and watch, and wonder, knowing the first summit makes the ride. We level, lingering loftily, long enough to look around. The height makes the fall, the fright is all we came for, the frenzy enthralls us as we find our way floorward and my fortitude fails as we flip, faster than fantasy, and fly with a fury before slowing, each rise shallower than the one before, until the car slows to a stop. We climb out and scatter, scurrying our separate ways.
Or maybe we should ride again.
