Rider

"The rain continued to drum down. He pondered over his first ride in over two years. It really didn’t matter about the rain or the delay. Lucas had dreamed about this trip during the past two years while he was in prison. Time was irrelevant now; he was free, he had done his bit, and the dream of this road trip to see his brother Dave, in Florida, had helped him through it. The bike looked a lot different now. Three weeks before Lucas caught his case, he had hit a deer: it had done in the fairing, the windshield, the fiberglass saddlebags, and the trunk. It looked like a Harley now; nobody would ever call it a “Honda-Harley” again. That used to really burn Lucas’s bottom."