it was more of a lob than a swing with the delicate grace of a slo pitcher, he swiftly swung his arm back and then like a pendulum in mid-motion, he lobbed forward and released the bottle soared- with wings and patience as though guided by lasers - glass bottle and glass windshield met, marbling then took full effect with the splash of the crash the chase is reborn flex is now fury the engine in our old, foreign, little bus came to life with a shrill whine we awkwardly shifted lanes, without sunlight or dry ground to ease our travel our pursuers steadfastly followed suit, the draft from their new opening surely providing enough chill to keep them alert as the memory before the lob is foggy, so too are the memories that follow there were no police chases or hospital visits this time we all must have had our horseshoes firmly inserted that night