Born_to_be_wild — Certified & Popular

An older woman at the counter looked at his jacket, then out the window at his rugged, roaring bike. She smiled knowingly. "Decided to get out on the highway and look for adventure, huh?"

He walked past his usual bus stop. He kept walking until he found himself standing in front of a weathered, neon-lit storefront on the edge of town. Behind the glass sat a 1970s vintage motorcycle. It had a chipped black paint job, exposed chrome pipes, and a leather seat that looked like it had seen a thousand rainstorms. born_to_be_wild

He gripped the handlebars, twisted the throttle, and kicked the bike into gear. An older woman at the counter looked at

He pulled into a roadside diner hundreds of miles from home. His hair was messy, his face was covered in a light dusting of road grime, and his hands were buzzing from the vibration of the bike. He sat at the counter and ordered black coffee and a massive slice of cherry pie. He kept walking until he found himself standing

"I think I was just born to be wild," he said. "It just took me sixty-five years to realize it."

For the first time in his entire life, Arthur wasn't following a schedule, a GPS, or a set of rules. He was chasing the horizon.