◉ 048 | No More Running

I crashed the car

and had no money

to fix it.

Sold the wreck

and bought a brand new

motorbike.

The problem was

I had no licence.

But I rode it anyway.

The cops stopped me once.

A hefty fine.

I kept riding.

Then one day

I rode from Zagreb

to Split,

360 km.

I loved every bend,

overtook cars

no matter

what line was on the road,

sometimes

double the speed limit.

Adrenaline

is a hell of a drug.

I felt it kicking

through my spine.

Near Plitvice,

an old man ahead

driving fifty

in a sixty zone.

Full line.

Oncoming traffic

far enough.

I clocked

over 100.

A cop

jumped out

of the woods

holding a lollipop.

Now three fines

over my head.

No licence.

Speeding.

Full line overtake.

They could even

impound the bike.

I slowed down.

For a second.

Then decided

not to stop.

The old fine

was still stinging.

I twisted the throttle

and flew past him.

My heart

went wild.

A few kilometres later,

a cop car

at a bus stop.

Another patrol.

Looking at me.

Fuck.

I turned left

onto a small road,

rode like a maniac,

checking the mirrors,

sliding through corners,

thinking

if I don’t calm

the fuck down

I’ll get to Split

in a body bag.

Woods.

Mountains.

No idea

where I was going.

I stopped

to check the map

under the seat.

My hands were shaking.

The road was leading

towards the border

with Bosnia and Herzegovina.

Then I saw

the third patrol.

Two cops

on big BMW bikes

coming towards me.

They passed.

Holy shit.

I woke up every patrol

in the area.

My bike was red and black.

My jacket was red and black.

My helmet was black.

Too easy

to remember.

I rode down

a dirt road,

opened the top box,

pulled out

a yellow rain jacket

and covered myself.

A new identity.

A new road user.

I drove back

to the main road.

The second patrol

was still there.

They looked.

Did nothing.

So I kept going.

Past Korenica.

Darkness coming down.

Sleep creeping in.

I was wrecked

from the adrenaline dump.

Then near Udbina,

a fourth patrol.

BMW bikes again.

They passed.

I kept rolling

down south.

A few months later

I got the licence.

No more running.