style="font-size:15px;"> Heavy Trek
Miller had the itch to have a heavy trek on the trails. He loads up and head’s to the zone. On the way he is able to notice a doe looking at him through a fence. The habitat near the water treatment plant where there are several acres closed off. In between the vines along the fence between all the growth a deer is standing looking out of the chain link window it views from. The deer’s silhouette is surrounded by sunflowers. The image is stuck in time for Miller to gain the view through the chain link window. “Awesome,” is his description. A spectacle that stokes his motivation for a long ride. He wanted to feel the work of his effort. He got to the trail and began his ride. He went a ways and it wasn’t enough. He needed to amplify his ride, and knew he couldn’t do it without making some adjustments. He had a small pack he rigged to the bottom of the seat of his bike. So he stopped and got a small tool that would help him tweak his setup. He went to work on the bike. He raised the seat first, and then tightened the gears. He knew to make sure his brakes were in. Then he went for it.
Miller was glad to eat the food left over on the stove when he got home. He hadn’t been that hungry since the last time he rode the entire trail, twice. It was good, and had a conversation with his sister when she turned the corner.
This moment took his mind off everything he could be thinking just to notice his surroundings. He was gaining the perspective of knowing this was going to be his life. It was a humbling realization to gain this knowledge on his own.
Miller’s gratitude met his feeling as he was complete. So he kept riding to finish out the ride he needed. The temperature was up and so was his performance. He made landings from jumps on average about four feet higher than normal. The extension he gave his legs proved worthy of the brake tightening due to the shredding his bike was performing to the track. It was chilling how intense he got with no stop in mind. He was pedaling faster and he could smell the dirt of the trail over his heavy sweat. He needed to keep going toppling roots that where at the top of so many inclines, and he had to watch for the ones in the low areas to not get knocked off. Winding back and forth through this stretch he felt as if he were gaining on something. The trail opened and he went for it he knew there was an up and coming turn with off set ground he would want to hit with power to ride the wall up one of the mounds of dirt a tree grew out of.
The turn was tough, and Miller ended up in the tree’s, but it was cool he needed another puff of smoke for the ride out. He had finished. This reminded him, the scientist Fredward, did mention to Miller that occasionally to check along the water treatment fence line behind the little signs on the fence that warn not to tamper with the water due to being charged with a crime. He would stash a baggy with some of the cannabis trimmings he would have thrown into the trash compost with the lot of the plant trimmings for plant maintenance and the residue usually left by experiments behind a sign. Miller did just that, the ride and the crash were a bit exhausting, but not enough to send him home. After he found a bag, Miller rode back to a spot out of sight on the trails to relax with the inhale of smoke that would bring him back to a resting point. He felt like he got a lot of exercise that day, and it made him feel pretty good. So Miller got out a flip pad he started carrying with him to write in. He worked on a song for a completion of it. The next thing he did was go back to the water treatment plant to see if the new girl was there. She wasn’t so he went home to his room where he could stretch out on his bed. The ride had been a good one that day. Miller knew eventually he would need to pick out and learn how to use some instruments. The next minute he was out fast asleep. When he woke up he could only wonder if anything was going on at the water treatment plant at this time if being not really night anymore but not even morning. So he went without noise through the house to his bike then down the slope of his drive way.
He really hoped someone was there and that it could be fun. Miller had to make a quick move before he started rolling on his two-wheel spoke machine. He sparked a light to huff-in the rest of what he had rolled in his pocket. That hit the spot and so off he went to the highest height. When he got to the water treatment plant he was surprised at all the lights that were on. Then he realized that the facility had to run all night and all day to do its job. He wasn’t surprised after all. Then she came outside like clockwork and he could not believe it. “Hey, you!” Is all he could get out about her while he looked. She looked shocked while he made his way up to her. “What are you doing here?” “I wanted to see if anything goes on here at night.” “You don’t need to be here.” “What’s wrong?” He asked. She didn’t seem to care and took him to the closet again. “Wait, you’re just gonna have me leave now?” “Yeah, so leave.” Then she gave him a kiss on the lips then walks away. He just stood their wondering how old she was.
Miller left, thinking about nothing. As he got to bed he realized how tired he was and was glad to fall asleep. The next morning he knew he had to get to the water plant to work. When he got there he came to the understanding that the girl whom he had thought worked there wasn’t just there for the cannabis research. She was also federally employed, but was not a scientist she was more involved with the research of the effect of the cannabis. Miller noticed a computer screen that had been left open when he walked in. She indeed was a doctor of some kind, had a list of notes that were about her patients mental state after the use of the plant material. If they had feelings of anxiety, fear, able to focus under pressure, felt better when ill, dealing with pain. The list went on and on and on. The results were gender mixed and logged by date of the interview. Miller knew he probably didn’t need to see this so he turned to walk away. “Like what you’ve been reading?” Fredward Sampson had snuck up behind him without him knowing. “Your job description does not have anything to do with computer work Mr. Miller.” Miller was aware that he had been looking for a few minutes now, “I was just reading because I have never seen this computer in use. I was just seeing what it was about.” Fredward was not worried that Miller had seen the likes of the content, “You didn’t do anything wrong, just don’t make it a habit to see what other parts of this place produce, strictly tend to the work you are responsible for, alright?” Miller understood and only said that he had realized that.
Miller finished writing a few more songs before he realized he needed a guitar. When he finally got one he knew it was only best for strumming, and wouldn’t take it out of his room. Which was fine because he didn’t have the money to get an amp yet. The amp that he wanted was more expensive than what he had.
The next ride was for Miller to exhaust himself like he hadn’t done in a while. Miller rode hard until he was tired. He took a break. He sat down on a downed tree to look about. He started singing with what he saw, naming whatever he sung about. The louder he was the more comfortable he got. The echo from the tree bottom helped him get the pitch he wants. He sang, and kept singing with the pitch he wants. He sang, and kept singing with the pitch he got.
He felt well practiced when he finished, and knew more practice was needed. Miller decided, when he got home, that he needed to go through his notes on the songs he was inventing.
He was surprised at how much he had come up with. He made a list of the songs. After getting back he did quite a bit of writing.
He wasn’t tired when he finished just began to take notice of the length he had been doing this.
He sang under his breadth as he wrote, and liked what he got. It was becoming creative. He was really getting something out of riding their was no way he was not, he could feel it. It was getting more energized when he wrote, he felt better about writing because of it.
He wanted to make some money. Miller hadn’t worked that much that week, and he decided he would spend more time in the lab than he ever had. When he decided on this it was about his income. Miller needed money, and because he had the opportunity of a job that was what he needed to invest his time in. Fredward worked a whole lot Miller remembers that the most he had seen Fredward was really the first two days he met him. The day he saved his life, and the day he started work. Fredward occasionally popped up, but it was
