I hear this every night around 11 o'clock. It's a magnificent American machine that is passionate, loyal, resourceful, dynamic and unique like it's rider. Every night that I see him ride away, I stare at his back, attentive of his surroundings. He disappears into the night. As if everything he passes becomes paper figurines (useless past). I don't mind watching his back. I can either be on his side, be by his side or be in his way. Anything that comes behind him, I encounter first. I can watch his right and left. I can also see what approaches ahead. As the engine slowly echoes away, I can see how he becomes one with his motorcycle. He quickly moves and leaves the bad behind. I can only wonder when will I hear his engine again. When will I be able to feel safe again. Finding things that make you happy shouldn't be so hard.
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