I walked into my dark garage this morning. I hit button on the wall and light spilled forth as the door rose allowing me to greet the new day. There in the middle of the garage with golden sunlight shining from it's chrome and polished bits was my bike. I greeted her warming rubbing my hand down the smooth lines of her tank and brushing my fingers across the lacing on her saddle. I threw a leg over her, and sat down on the supple leather seat feeling her strngth beneath me. I reached down under my left leg to switch the key into the on position and..... it was ALREADY in the on position! Doh!!!!!!!! I frantically thumbed the starter again and again, but she was.... was... dead!!!!!!! How could I have been so cruel!? I can just imagine her sitting in the garage last night calling out to me with her glowing headlamp, but unable to scream because her engine was silent. The horror......
