standing in the middle of the road

Three paces, then four, then five, and you're in the middle of the road, watching it stretch out in either direction, no cars for as far as you can see, just blacktop and you. And somehow, it manages to make you feel freer than you've felt since you were 12 and were allowed to ride your bike around the neighborhood on your own; like nothing in the world can contain you. It might be a remnant from childhood. The unspoken knowledge that you're breaking a Rule. That you're doing something you're not supposed to do. After all, you don't just…