#by the time we hit the highway my hair is a wreck- a lion's mane across my face

[whositmcwhatsit]

#elvis presley #baby elvis #daydreaming that he gets his ticket #and he rants all the way home to audubon about how he can't do nothing #not even get his haircut #without someone giving him grief for it #he warns me not to tell his mother that he's got yet another ticket #back home he paces around #can't settle #then he grabs my hand and announces we're going out #he's in a real mood and snaps: “I'll be back when I'm back!” when Gladys asks how long he'll be #he'll regret that later when he's calmed down and knows he'll have to face her wrath #he pulls on his motorcycle cap and yanks me onto his harley behind him #he'll also regret that later when I know he's calmed down enough to show my wrath #we don't even stop at the bottom of the drive to give any of the kids an autograph #they scatter as he screeches off down the residential road #he's going too fast and weaving around staid fords and chevys #but i trust him #i don't know why #by the time we hit the highway my hair is a wreck- a lion's mane across my face #i press my cheek against the warmth of his back and feel the tension easing #he whoops out a war cry #or maybe a howl of freedom and tugs my arm tighter around his waist #as we accelerate towards nowhere