It was terribly anti-climactic. The ecstatic feelings from the night before, bled into a gray haze as day after day he returned home in a state of turmoil from the day's efforts. Pain, frustration, and anger greeted me each time he walked through the door and threw down his gear.
Is there a haze in his focus and determination? It's now dampened. The spark of excitement, that only weeks before surrounded him, is dim and tired. I gather the strength of years ago and maintain the rock I once provided to him, as he healed from injuries that were deep inside him.
Has the weight of understanding the two-wheeled beasts taken away his love of the creatures? The healing power of "The Ride" evades him, even now, as he mounts his steed to be whisked off to the world of Technicians and Teachers.
Perhaps a gathering of like minds would help to heal his soul, as they talk of past journeys and conquests of the open road; each one igniting a small flame and extinguishing the darkness.
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