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Hundred Days 016

Whoa Black Betty



Day 016: Whoa Black Betty

We exchange guilty grins and procede without a word. The rope slides down my back like nylons being slipped off smoothly shaven legs. There is no noise but for the music in my ears, Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Black Betty.” How apropos a song for these forbidden turns: I am Boston George smuggling powder over the border. The emotions are the same: fear, anxiety, exhilaration surging in one defiant sequence of controlled breaths. Bam-ba-Lam. –Z


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