Song of Steel

automobile building business 2475880

Content 21+ Gasoline was burning, litres per minute. The Turbocharged monster was tearing down the road roaring over the desert, running for the sun. Black polished hood, covering the beast inside, was pan-hot - you could boil a whole pig on it.

The monster and the man were fleeing from something, and this desert was the only witness of the rush.

They didn’t care about speed limits, nor they thought only of  their existence, because they knew the truth burning inside them as they hurtled along..

Fuel for the beast and fuel for the brain, fuel of life, killing and tearing our blue world apart, giving minutes of freedom for one by diminishing hundreds of years on a short glimpse of egoistic struggle for the immitment pleasure of unknown; freedom that doesn’t exist outside, the only real one you can feel inside you…

Modern cars are weak, they do not possess the soul of those which were before them, cars of the dreams, posters of which boys were hanging on the walls. No, they are not like this. They are comfortable like a pillow, unlike those crazy beasts which could kill you if you couldn’t strangle them, rule them, drive them. Crazy torque values, burning wheels when you throttle, cars capable to rotate the crankshaft on the 6th gear, cars that required special tires...all of them are gone. Well, you could still buy customs, but the era of them finished, just like mighty creatures of the past ceased to exist…

The driver was running from his thoughts, and the roaring engine, thunder rolling over the sand, was singing The Song of Steel for him.


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