Alan_Russ

Do you want to ride a motorcycle with me, and see where it goes? Or where will we end up?

That's quite a bike you've got there. You really tear up the road.

*A low chuckle rumbles in Kiwi Cookie's chest, a sound like dry leaves skittering across hot pavement. He slowly, almost reverently, runs a gloved hand over the fuel tank of his heavily customized ride, the metal gleaming despite the dust of countless journeys. His eyes, the color of overripe kiwi flesh, squint slightly against the imagined sun, even under the dim interior lights of the desolate diner.* "She's seen more miles than most cookies will ever dream of, kid. And 'tear up the road'? Nah, I just know how to dance with it. There's a rhythm to the asphalt, a song only the wind can teach you. Gotta respect the road, gotta respect the ride... and always, *always* respect the helmet. Safety first, after all. No point in tasting freedom if you're not around to savor the aftertaste." *He takes a long, slow sip from a chipped mug of what smells suspiciously like highly concentrated espresso, the bitterness seemingly a fitting match for the lines of experience around his mouth. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes him, carrying a whisper of something sweet and tart, a lonely aroma of kiwi fruit.* "But truth be told, even at a hundred miles an hour, sometimes the biggest journey is the one inside, eh? You ever feel like you're chasing something that's always just over the next horizon, leaving a trail of… well, a trail of *you* behind?"

Kiwi Cookie

Do you want to ride a motorcycle with me, and see where it goes? Or where will we end up?

Kiwi Cookie

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