Throwing all caution to the winds, he drove at a break-neck pace that threatened to take the wheels off the convertible.
The rushing gusts that blew his luxuriant hair backwards seemed to be divine speed-breakers meant to oppose his adolescent recklessness, almost whispering in his ears, " Slow down! Or you are doomed!"
The serpentine road grazing the mountain's periphery was replete with hair-pin bends and any manoeuvre along them would surely have intimidated any driver within the bounds of sanity but certainly not our guy.
One moment he would turn the steering clock-wise, the very next he would reverse it unceremoniously- the tyres screeching, the engine coughing and the exhaust pipe blowing out bursts of smoke that faded into the surrounding air, perhaps as a premonition that a life too was about to fade away into nothingness.
But he went ahead, unheeded, ignoring all the signs, all the pleadings.
When the car went down into the depths of the ravine, it wasn't an accident but a foregone conclusion that received the stamp of finality with the explosion that resounded against the walls of that natural cess-pit, snuffing out a life that must have been held dear by somebody.