The link will take you to my latest publication about a ride we've probably all taken, a bike ride.
I watch Liam bravely lift his little legs when he zooms down the driveway on his ride-on bike or little car, and I imagine him in fourteen years, zooming into the love zone like the 16 year old character I am writing about in my work in progress:
Puppy love and first cars are equivalent to a fast ride on a figure eight track, all consuming and completely confusing. At the ragged edge of aggravation, with his engine gunning, sixteen-year-old Luke roared around the bend. Hit a road block at the intersection of Leave-me-alone! and No-I-won't-give-up-on-you.
He disregarded every glaring amber warning sign, and rushed headlong to prove himself. At a red light, he slammed on the brakes, flung down his cell phone and spat, "Forget about Kate!"
Kate heard the sincere purr of his engine and gave him the go-ahead. She'd take him for another spin. One more chance. This was it.