The rope in my hand is taut, pulling me forward. My board skips across the surface of the pond, leaving a wake gurgling and splashing behind it. I’m surfing towards the setting sun, it hangs low over far away green hills, streaking the grey green water with lustrous gold; my right hand stretched out behind me, the fingers forming the rock and roll sign of the devil. I let out a scream of exhilaration, it’s a perfect moment.