It’s so much better on the road.
Kayla glanced down at his tousled mop of hair, his dirt-streaked cheek, patted his clean one and replied,
It’s too dangerous, my love.
His mutinous brows frowned as he stood in his go-kart, arms akimbo.
Word count: 42
This week’s question: Why don’t we do it in the road?
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