(no name)

The Fear starts in the pit of my belly, as a little acorn-sized ball of hotness. Growing rapidly, expanding mostly upward, it gets much hotter very quickly. If not quenched, it will lead to the iron-y taste of acid burning your throat, or possibly vomiting. The key is to punch The Fear in its angry, self-centered face as hard as you can, smashing it into nothing so that it can never regroup and return to distract you again. Shove The Fear away, without a second though, banish it from you being.

AT THE SAME TIME!!: Watching the gaps in the cars ahead, I reach down with my left hand, push in the clutch with my left foot, slam the shifter into second, monitor my buddy's location on his bike, check for potholes and trash, re-evaluate the gap, and shoot between the cars with inches to spare on both sides. Realizing my buddy is now out of my impact bubble, I shift into third as quickly as possible, trying to keep my ass planted on the seat, my hands on the bars, and my front tire out of some idiot's bumper, and weave swiftly through the rest of traffic. This is WAR, and I am the Fucking Man With The Axe out front, waylaying all the little morons with sweeping arcs of death and bloodsplatter.

Don't forget to watch for cops.

All this happens in 5 seconds. One stop light, five cars, three gears, 80 mph, 11 pm.

Then, at the next light, I punch The Fear in the face again, but its smaller this time, and not so angry-looking.