“That bike was the beginning of our story.” “Everything’s a story with you,” he says. What about the feeling of freedom each time we hopped on the bike together? What about the wind on our skin? Or the front-row seat to the sights and smells of a city, how everything changes with the seasons? What about those few wonderful weeks each spring when the cherry blossoms bloom? What about the way the motorcycle drove his mother crazy? Oh my god.
