Workout

I outlined the first two chapters of 'The Vessel' in the car during football practice last night. My fingers possessed to get the words onto the page. I vaguely remember the layers of my surroundings.



The sound of my son in the backseat intense on sending little balls of feathers into the piggy perpetrators. The evening heat pressing down on us. Leaving us puddled, melting, and sticking to our seats.



The staccato drill whistles and and the bass of dozens of cleats hitting the grass. The smell of dust, fire-pits and oil. The revving engines, and random blasts of an air horn.



The announcer calling the race to begin, "Ladies and gentlemen we are about to start our timed runs....."



But sir I am already on my second lap. Just the setting to a furious scratching of my pen, never touching me. I was in the zone, and it felt crazy good.