Where one should not sleep

The sound of the scooter is muffled by my helmet.The landscape races by. Traces of blurry green spots wash away my ability to distinguish the people in the fields. I feel a hum in my belly and warm wind is softly caressing my cheeks. It seems like only yesterday that I fell asleep and rolled off the motorbike straight on to the asphalt road. Except from a few bruises I was unharmed. However the shock from awaking in such a disruptive manner, generated a quivering unpleasantness. The deceitful lulling of being in movement.



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