With a light press of the accelerator, the car effortlessly sped up. Without my realising it we were now a little over the speed limit. It was odd how slow it felt. The cabin deathly quiet as the car stoically glided along.
Flashback 10 years: driving in Perth in the 小金车 (xiao jin che or “little golden car” – the name we housemates affectionately called our car). Onto the freeway I went at 90 km/h. The car rattled as the bumps on the ground made their presence felt; the engine groaning under the strain.
In the “slow” car going at 90 km/h felt like 120.
In the “fast” car going at 120 km/h felt like 90.
The experience of speed was far more obvious in the “slow” car despite the lack of the real thing: the elevated heart-rate; the adrenaline; the fun!
Likewise, is life not often what you make of it?
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