Tuesday, April 17, 2012

I Had a Dream...

That the Blue Angels piloted robin's egg Porsche 917s instead of F/A-18s.  I was sitting on a grassy hill overlooking the Circuit De la Sarthe, where the cars were cornering inches apart, three abreast in two rows, performing intricate passing maneuvers and driving in diamond formation down the Mulsanne at 240 MPH.  I could hear their rung-out flat twelves dry, hollow shriek ebb and flow, their exhausts echoing staccato pops of unburnt fuel off the trees and through the valley below.  I could see bright yellow helmeted drivers making measured and graceful inputs behind narrow lexan apertures, brake discs glowing afterburner red, orange and gold spark showers shooting from beneath the cars in unison as they silently scraped unseen dips and compressions in sync.

I woke up in a great mood.

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