Scribble: Sometimes, you just gotta be free.

      She looks up at the sky, shimmering eyes drifting between the scattered points of light. Toes crunching on the gravel, she falls back to lean on her steed, the engine block still warm to the touch. A streak of light flashes across the sky and her tired face, as a quiet laugh slips from behind her smile.
      Somewhere in the distance, ashes of photographs and letters drift in the midnight air, carried aloft by laughter...