His wings of wax were strapped on snugly as he climbed into his car. His hand shook with excitement when he turned the key in the ignition. He had raced before, but this time was different. The cold darkness enveloped him as he slowly backed out of the garage. It would be a long and fast night, yet the mere thought of not returning to his warm home never phased his thoughts.

The car’s engine roared as he took his place. It was a simple game, but he was invincible. He was immortal, in his eyes. At the start, his car flew into motion. His wings of wax, were spread out in his rush of adrenaline. The warnings heeded by his father were a thing of the past. He sped down the road paying no attention to anything but the finish.

His eyes were set on the finish, but he loved a gamble. He sped up along that deserted road, flying closer and closer to the sun. It was all for a rush; it was all for a thrill. Yet, he never thought of what could happen. His father’s voice echoed in his ears as his speed climbed.

They say he never saw it coming. His wings of wax had melted as he plummeted to the cold asphalt, surrounded by bits of glass. For the modern day Icarus had flown too close to the sun, even after listening to his father’s warning. A tragedy, it was, and the son will never know the pain he caused in his poor father’s heart. After all the repetitions, on the dangers of speeding, young Icarus could never learn.