He revved up the engine, kicked up his feet and we were on our way. The worn scooter accelerated clumsily. It had kept on struggling until minutes later it reached its maximum speed, ninety kilometers per hour. The wind bit into my face as I stared at the road above his shoulder. There was no elevation or descent, bump or bend ahead of us. Only the endless, straight road.

Suddenly, without any reason he cried out, let go of the handlebars, flung his arms wide open and let the scooter zip ahead without control or supervision.

I screamed. The sound flowed from my throat endlessly, unquenchably, as if something was nurturing and encouraging it from inside: “Don’t stop! Don’t stop!”
Adrenaline flooded my veins, all thought ceased in my brain, and I allowed the incomparable, long-forgotten feeling carry me away: anything is possible!

I can do anything. There are no limits. There are no fears. There’s only me, and my endless possibilities.