I love the feeling of soaring down a hill with nothing between me and the road but an artfully crafted piece of wood. I lower myself down onto one knee and sway the board gently back and forth over the surface of smooth tar. My arms stretch out on either side of me and my hands fly millimetres away from the tarmac. I gaze ahead at the stretch of smooth road waiting for me and soar.
The board becomes an extension of my body. I carve back and forth and propel myself forward with gentle contacts with the surface. The whir of my wheels fade into the background as the wind washes past me whispering of life. I am alive.
My eyes flutter closed for a moment and I am in the sky, sweeping through the clouds. Nothing can touch me now.
Forward I fly past flickering recognitions of people turning to see. I stand and turn facing forward with my feet side by side. The board rocks back and forth and my arms stretch wide. I drink in the cool air and smile, here freedom does not elude me. I am free.
A curve looms in the road and adrenaline rushes into my blood combating fear. I sway around the bend carving my path with a gentle lean. I pull the board straight and throw laughter into the air. My hips sway and my arms dance to the joy in my heart. Catch me now.
I roll up to a steep drop in the road and stop, surveying safety. Wisdom says no, but oblivion prevails. I push forward and the wheels slowly begin to spin faster, then suddenly I am on the ride. I bomb down the incline and carefully steady my feet as smooth tar rushes ever faster below me. Adrenaline and fear roar louder simultaneously as a wobble shakes my confidence, but no I will not go down. I speed forward and roar.
I have conquered the hill, but not again. Though my skills do not match the capacity of the board I am satisfied. These have become my streets and here I am me. Try, try, try and run from me now.