It was hard to remember that woman's face, being nighttime and fucking and all. But she made a habit of riding by every night about the same time, and...then one day our eyes met and she smiled and looked down. It was her! I was convinced of that at least. Then of course I was waiting for her to ride by, and she stopped riding by. Again, I had stopped looking, and winter came and went, and a warm spring followed. One afternoon, on a Saturday, on a day I usually was not there, there she was. "You folks from around here?" He asked, pretending to just make talk."Nah, just passing through and stopped to see an old friend."Not an outright lie, college kids are always passing through. Very few stay around after graduation.I looked around."I think I'm gonna like this place. It looks a lot like where I hang at when I'm home." Yeah, where's that?" He was still fishing."The Broke Spoke. Ever been there?"The Broke Spoke was the roughest biker bar between here and the coast.He looked at me. More

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