Born_to_be_wild ★

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

He gripped the handlebars, twisted the throttle, and kicked the bike into gear. born_to_be_wild

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. "I think I was just born to be wild," he said

The shop owner, an old man with a grey beard reaching his chest, stepped outside. His hair was messy, his face was covered

"She's a beast," the owner said. "Hard to control if you don't know what you're doing."

Three weeks later, the grey suits were gone. Arthur stood in his driveway wearing a thick, worn-in leather jacket and a pair of sturdy boots. He straddled the heavy machine, turned the key, and kicked the starter.

To the rest of the world, Arthur was the definition of predictable. But inside his chest, a different rhythm was beating—one fueled by the roar of an engine he had never actually heard. 🎸 A Spark of Rebellion