Story for Night Ride - I have a right to be heard, to be seen, to be loved, to be free, to be everything I need to be me, to be safe, to believe... in something

Jerusalem nights. The jackals scavenge through the garbage. The dogs bark at ghosts in the night. Police, flashing blue lights, yelling over the speakers at suspicious vehicles to pull over. Ambulances on patrol, waiting for the next call. Cabs racing around the city as if on a race circuit. Here, there, somebody must care. I don't even need to look to know who's behind me. Jerusalem cabs have the most worn out engines, then police and ambulances slightly less. The heavy but worn out engine is a Jerusalem bus. A strong, clean engine, identifies a stranger to the Jerusalem nights. A visitor in this strange world that feels so natural to me. He may honk, he may ask for directions, he is insecure. My road is blocked, a police car with flashing blue lights has pulled someone over in the middle of the street. A beat up piece of shit car, filled with rowdy youth. This is suspicious. "Show me some ID!" commands the male officer, while the lady officer stands guard with an M-4. I may pass she waves at me. I belong here. Amongst the demons and angels of the night. Amongst the potential terrorists and drunk drivers. Amongst the angels and security forces keeping us safe. One cyclist racing for KOMs. Racing for that next peak. Racing for the peace of his soul. Loaded trucks crawling up the steep grades with deadlines to meet. Jerusalem nights. Soon it will be over, and then sun will shine, but until then my heart will catch fire.