And it was something that always came rushing back to her, a thrill as only a recovering addict can feel, that spike of adrenaline that came with gripping the wheel between her tourrettic knuckles and testing the power beneath her sandaled toes. That feeling.
The racing heart, the peak in adrenaline, the surge of unencumbered happiness that coursed through her veins as she rounded an especially tight curve. At the most unbelievable highs and the most painful lows it was there for her to peal through the layers of feeling, strip away everything but pure energy running through her appendages and pouring into the throbbing engine as she and the road connected on the most basic physical level. No matter what, it was where she wanted to be. Away.
Even now, even through the rain and fog of her general contentment the car, the road knew.

There was nothing she would rather do than just drive.

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