She pulled her hair back and tied a band around it. She pulled the helmet down over her face. The boots had already been laced up tight. She positioned her sunglasses just right under the visor.
As she saddled up the motorcycle she put her gloves on and made sure the bike was in neutral before she hit the starter switch.
It purred to life. As she rolled out of sight on that sunny day I thought of an earlier time. Simple. Clear. Humble. Small cottages. Windy dirt roads. A beach view. The smell of the Gulf on a bright Sunday morning.
It doesn't take much to make the day the day.
On these days when enough never seems to be enough and loud never seems to be loud enough and greed never seems to be greedy enough, she rolled through the side roads of an island paradise.
That's all.
Beautiful.
An ageless experiment.