That’s it. The perfect bike. I’ll call him flying Rat.
It’s got to be a Harley D. With some engine mods and preferably the straight pipes. Flathead will do, and the rigid tail, for that kidney stone.
What awaits us are miles and miles of road, soaked by the smell of fuel and taste of bugs in our mouth. Just me and my Rat.
All alone in the world.
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