A powerful roar quakes the surrounding earth. The beast has been awakened from his slumber and feels his master's discontent. He master is always like this when he rides at night. Never happy, always thinking. Slowly they move out of his place of rest and onto the desolate road. There is no one to meet them there other than silence. The roads are small and winding. The beast can do nothing more than saunter through, purring all the way. Soon the small roads turn into a wide path. Interstate 55. In a flash, the beast dashes. A roar fills the air. It was his master's will to do this, not his. His speed increases at an incredible rate. 40. 50. 55. 60. Silence has been left behind. Wind fills their ears. Another roar fills the air. His master has kicked him into a higher gear. 65. 80. 90 miles per hour. His master's eyes are determined. He is determined to get to his goal. 10 more and they're there. Another gear change, but this time it doesn't work. The beast's pace begins to slow. His master realizes this and eases the pressure. The elusive 100 has escaped again. The beast slows to a comfortable speed of 60 mph as his master downshifts. For the next hour they cruise to the next town and back home.
There is no true reason to reach 100. In fact, his master knows that it may never happen. But this is how his master is. In truth, he is not after 100. He is only running away hoping to reach 100. He runs from his excess worries and problems; he runs until only the core is left. That is when he tells the beast the slow down. They cruise to the end of I-55 and then back home. Both of them clear their minds by the end of the trip. Both ever so content.
