Years later, he’d still remember that sempiternal summer. On hot days, he’d turn off the a/c and wind down the window. He tuned the radio to some crappy AM band, and let his head drift a little out the window, allowing the sun, the wind and the danger soak right through him.  He remembered the days before seatbelts and suncream, he remembered a time when the government didn’t think it had to be a crabby old nanny. He remembered making decisions for himself based on whatever the hell he wanted, and knowing the consequences were binary: a laugh or death.
On hot days, he rode with the window down, just for a while, just long enough to remember…