The ground was a blur. Trees, grass, canyon walls whipped past. And all the while the control stick rattled. The whole canopy seemed ready to shake loose. Everything about the ship felt ready to fall apart.
“These belong in a museum,” shouted Rey over the radio and the noise of her own ship. Like the others it had seen better days, but was up and running now. Up was relative. They could barely maintain any altitude, just enough to be dangerous.
“What are you talking about,” replied Temun, “these are perfect!”
“The p-p-perfect wa-way to k-k-kill ourselves,” stuttered Gnu as they hit some turbulence.
A gust of wind threw Temun’s craft to the left, and she tried to fight it back into a stable flight path. It wasn’t having any of it.
So Temun rolled the ship and slipped down another branch of the canyon. “I’ll see you there!”
“Where?” cried Rey and Gnu together.
“The finish line!”
“Didn’t realize we were racing,” said Rey as she slalomed between rocks strewn across the canyon floor.
Gnu flew a little above, trying to avoid putting as much stress on their ship as possible. “We’re gonna die, we’re gonna die, we’re gonna die!”
“Yeah, someday,” said Temun, “but not today!” And she threw the throttle full forward. The acceleration pushed her into her crash couch. And she let out a whoop as her ship jetted forward through the canyons.
Today’s art is courtesy of Tyler Bradley from Vancouver, Canada.