Riders
by Aidan Ryan
Three teenage boys rode fast down the street at midnight. It was hot and humid. Trees and houses rushed by casting strange shadows in the yellow light of the streetlamps. Wind slid past like silken sheets, and all was silent, save for the slight hum of the spinning gears and the lub of tires over pavement. Only speed erased the boredom of that summer. The first boy turned; the rest followed, not caring where they went.
The boys rode aimlessly through the night. They rode to escape their friends, their families; the conflict and drama that followed them. What should have been a birthright; money, love, freedom, truth, felt like objects of a futile game. They rode in loneliness on isolated streets. The boys rode because they were human, subject to emotions and desires, yearning. They were riders.