Now it was time to move on, again, this time literally. This life beating gave him an urge, to just go away. Go find dad, the man he never knew, the guy who didn’t know that he even existed. Time had come to leave the ugliness and memories of the big dirty city and ride across the country to find the old man. And who knows, maybe finally some peace.

James’s black motorcycle loved the open road, even better at around 80 mph. He flew through the desert states, barely noticing the scenery.   The hot wind licked his face.   His tightly braided ponytail whipped and snapped angrily. While the speed pushed jaded mental junk to the back of his skull, he just stared at the road. He didn’t really know (or care) how long it would take to get to Maine, he just knew “Dad” now lived there, or used to. What would they say?  Do?   Who cares, he had nothing better to do, nor anyone to do it with.