Rhetoric Description

The blinding sun light spilled onto my exhausted underside from the window across the room as the unlaundered shirt was whisked away. The sight of the dank pullover was replaced with an anxious peering face. I knew that look in his face well. He had grown imaginative last night and was staring at my strained body, almost seemingly considering if what he had in mind might be too much for my experienced frame. Then as if he had made his decision a smile broke his expression and with the tip of his toe he flipped me into his eager hand and my torturous day was about to make its start. I knew what was in store for me and for a brief moment reminisced about the days when a simple coast down a crevice strewn alley was the extent of it.

He shoved me under his arm and flew down the stairs to the checkered floor of his kitchen. I gripped myself as I was tossed to clatter against the table and there I lay as he wrestled cabinets' open and clattered silverware onto the table. The chair shrieked as it was pulled out, as if it was trying with all it's might to stay rooted in its spot. The sound of slurping cereal was drowned out by the sneak attack of sound beckoning from the other room. He jumped up out of his seat spilling some of the contents of his bowl onto my nose as he sprinted to pacify the shrill wails of the phone. "Yeah man, it's sick.......probably will get me sponsored in no time flat......yah I'm gonna practice it today, bring your cameras......" I've heard that conversation before. I knew what it meant. I was ready.

He rushed back into the room threw his meal into the sink with no remorse and flicked me back into his hands with little effort. I was actually starting to feel a bit antsy wondering what was in store for me. His body was throbbing as he pressed me against his ribs and his palms were clammy against my scarred underside. I knew that he was excited and my thoughts synchronized with his own filling me with exhilaration. We trudged to the doorway after he pounced into his chaotically laced shoes and wedged his ear phones on his head echoing the cacophony of an angst filled symphony.

He slammed the front door without looking back and carefully dragged his feet across the coarse surface of the driveway making sure there were no hindrances accumulated to the soles of his feet. Finally, we reached the street and his arms strangled the brim of my body and he slowly lifted me until he was staring into the crevices where I had been brutalized in days past. The vibrant paint that had tattooed my underside at one point had been torn to shreds of a random spectrum. My nose and tail had been sanded down to loose leaf proportions and was void of any color at all. Metallic limbs that once shined with promise now were engraved with deep welts of adrenaline powered mutilation. If anyone had glanced upon me they would not have seen me even fit for scrap on in a yard, but he looked deep into me. He looked into my frame and after his inspection broke into a memory driven smile. He looked into me and at that moment we were connected in an artistic manner that even the most skilled could not catch on canvas. I was ready.

With a running start he cracked my urethane appendages onto the uneven black concrete and pounced onto my darkened back. I felt no pain, just anticipation as we roared down the street in unison. The cracks and crevices of the street raced towards us and were devoured by my wheels in the wake of our path. It was shear poetry how we flowed down the avenue with the grace of a predator. Then just as we approached a divot it seemed unavoidable that together we would end in catastrophe, there was a sharp slap as I felt his feet pound on my tail and lift us clear over the obstacle. I clutched myself ready for the impact as he extended his legs and stuck the landing with the prowess of a gymnast and I continued roaring down the road effortlessly.

We carved through street corners, sidewalks, and across traffic, turning heads in every which direction we flew when finally I was brought to a sudden stop. Before us was a stretch of snaking side walk leading to a mountain of steps jutting down a hill. He stepped off my arched back and kicked me up into his sweaty palms. All of a sudden