When she'd seen it she'd almost swallowed her tongue, small, black, engine that gleamed with a promise of power that would catapult her along tarmac as fast as she wanted.
It had been a craptacular birthday until Logan had turned up, his hair all messed up, eyes open and clear but no smile on his lips. He'd come home again, his trips out were always about him, there was nothing here for him to do or to come back for. Not now Jean was gone.
But he'd just grabbed her from her melancholic stupor and dragged her to the garage, there in the back of his truck was 'it'. She'd watched as he'd rolled the thing off the back, filled the tank and gone into the trucks cab for something else. Throwing a helmet painted up like her hair and a jacket with her name emblazoned on the back of it in dark green leather. Then he'd just winked at her and left again, leaving her with the machine sat there keys taped to the tank.
She'd taken nearly an hour to get on it, when she had there'd been something under the seat. Shifting herself off again she'd opened the storage compartment and found the map already folded and marked out. Her finger trailed the lines, saw the creased edges, the spots of oil and the fingerprints covering it's surface. Well used, well loved; as she looked the trail ended somewhere in the Adirondack's.
Looking at the bike, the tyres on it and the amount of gas he'd put in it, she knew she could make it if she set off now. Just in time to watch the sun go down over the lake that was near the small dot on the map. Smiling she put the map inside her jacket, zipped up, put on the helmet and turned herself into the wind, flying down the tarmac, going to her source, her home, her friend. There was nothing left here that she wanted anymore.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Just a little exercise in thoughts....