Nathan Bishop -Turning the key, I rev up my motorcycle. Hitting the gas, I take off down the drive. Nearing the exit to the interstate, I turn in that direction, merging into the late-night traffic. Moving in and around the various vehicles on the road, I accelerate, pushing the bike to its' maximum speed. The ice-cold air permeates my leather jacket and pants, but it barely registers. I love the speed and the night air..the freedom that I feel when I can let loose and ride. I don't have a destination in mind, but hours pass. I glance down at my gas tank and realize I need to make a pit stop. Exiting the interstate, I find a convenience store and pull in.
Getting off my bike, I remove my helmet and stretch out my neck. I pull my wallet from my inside pocket, retrieving my credit card. As I wait for the gas to pump into my tank, I realize that I have a few admirers. A couple of females are talking softly and giggling, while staring straight at me. I roll my eyes and turn from them, hoping they take the hint. The pump shuts off and I finish my transaction. With one last look at the females, I don my helmet and hop back on my bike. Peeling out of the parking lot, I take note of the moon. It will be dawn in a couple of hours so I turn the bike back onto the interstate, this time, heading back to the compound.
On the way back, I let my mind wander to its' favorite topic of late -Jordana. I imagine her on the back of my bike, her arms wrapped around my waist. I can almost feel her body pressed up against mine. I let out a groan and force my thoughts to something else.. -
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