Easy Rider (standard:romance, 2182 words)
Author: Elizabeth Spencer	Added: May 30 2003	Views/Reads: 3533/2551	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A love that had to happen: Heart to wild to tame and a love to strong to denigh.

Easy Rider By: Elizabeth Spencer 

Fire fanned from the sides of the Harley as it flashed down the winding
highways of Napa Valley. His long white ponytail swept by the wind 
fluttered beneath his helmet like the tail of a wagging dog. 

She closed her eyes remembering his face. She felt as if he was in her
arms just moment's ago. His strong arms and roaring passion filling her 
senses with desire. Turning from the window she whenced as she peered 
at the now empty room. Tears drizzled from her eyes and her stomached 
ached. She kicked the stool that sat at her feet across the room and 
threw herself on her bed sobbing uncontrollably. 

"I am such a fool, an idiot, he's gone...gone!" her tight fists pull at
the sheet, twisting it into tear stained knots. The eternal seconds 
loom into minuets and she drifts off to sleep. Sweet sleep, a haven 
from the heartache. No dreams, no tears, just dark silence where she 
escapes from loneliness. 

He had left months ago but her mind couldn't stop thinking of him. She
saw his face, his broad shouldered stance in the shadows of strangers. 
Heard his voice and the words he spoke from the lips of friends. Trying 
to forget, trying to move on with her life, the memory of him held her 
like a vice grip. She feared she loved him. Really loved him! The kind 
of love she always wanted with a horrible twist. He didn't love her. He 
left, easily, without goodbye, without a tear of regret. She alone in a 
silent, bubbling vat of wantened desire fought back thoughts of what 
could have been. Feeling like a prisoner of the heart, an idiot of 
emotion, made her distort and drove her to tears. Waking from her 
sleeping retreat she rubs her red eyes and stumbles into the kitchen. 

The sun was disappearing leaving a pink glow across the vibrantly green
rolling hills. The beauty of the scene enveloped her and she allowed 
the moment time enough to sooth her senses. She loved the California 
coast and Napa Valley. Constantly appreciative and amazed at the ever 
changing beauty of God's palate. Her small house had views of the 
California foothills and glimpsed at the roaring Pacific Ocean in the 
distance. There was no place as blessed with beauty during the spring 
as her little house, she thought. She faintly smiled as she gazed 
towards the horizon. “No more beautiful shell for a love sick nut to 
live in!” She thought! 

His Harley roared into the parking lot and came to a stop next to a line
of motorcycles all gathered for the annual meet for charity. This year 
the biker's rally was to raise money for cancer victims. Allen always 
felt good about doing for the helpless. A strapping healthy man, now in 
his fifties insisted on a life of free spirited wildness. No time for 
careers, family ties or responsibility for anything that couldn't get 
up and go when he had the urge. Growing older brought him moments of 
insights, as a loner he was comfortable and content with his free 
wheeling lifestyle. But something was missing. Something deep inside 
that wasn't quenched with sex, or jumping on his bike and hitting the 
roads. Something he feared he was now to old to obtain and to frighten 
of failure to try. He thought about returning to school, of starting a 
career, getting married and building a home. Not just any home but one 
with acreage and views of God's country. All the trimmings, pool, spa, 
huge fireplace that crackled in the winter's bitter cold. Cuddled next 
to him by the fire a warm woman, that made him feel alive. A nourishing 
woman that made him feel proud and sane. A woman that would welcome his 
children and grandchildren and fill his heart and home with love. But 
the flip side of this priced too high. Responsibility, chains to hold 
him down and someone else to care about beside himself. Now seeing his 
old buddies again made him think of what he didn't have. Most of his 
friends had married and built portfolios and now talked of travel, kids 
in college and investment capital. Privately he worried that he 
appeared in their eyes to be stuck in a time warp. Yester-years version 
of easy rider an emotional teenager that couldn't get a handle on his 
desirers. 

The meet ended and he found himself thinking about his very independent
life. Whenever he felt this way he would cruse calmly almost gently 
through the winding hills letting his thoughts flow like the wind flows 
through his hair. He would lose himself in the wind and scenery. The 
feel of the freedom, to turn at any corner, travel any road upon a 
whim. He once cherished the lack of schedules, not having to explain 


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