The Biker

It happened one night....

As these things do.

I was taking the dog for her last walk.

It was Spring, but you wouldn't know it.

Pellets of green desperately tried pushing up out of the earth,
but the frost from melting snow prevented it from doing so.

Garbage littered the streets,
while Ripley sniffed familiar territory.

We managed to make it around the block,
about fifty steps in five minutes,
when my mind began to wander,
so much so,
that we had made it half way around the block before I snapped to.

Ripley had stopped to smell the roses,
about every other house,
when he found me.

The roar of a motorcycle had caught my attention.

It was parked fourth in line, behind three large cars.

I could only see the glaring yellow headlight.

The bike idly roared,
as its owner stepped out from behind the cars.

He must have been twenty steps away.

I pulled at Ripley's leash,
but she refused to leave.

She continued to sniff and pee,
sniff and pee.

I tried to avoid eye contact,
but made out most of the riders silhouette.

He was a tall, older man,
with a gray braid,
woven to the small of his back.

His hands were covered with black, cut off gloves.

He had on tattered black jeans,
a black t-shirt,
and ass kicking boots that thudded with each step.

I pulled at Ripley,
and we were off.

She made it a few more feet before stopping again.

Behind me I could see him slowly walking toward us.

He didn't say a word.

I listened to the crunch of pebbles under his boot,
as I stood with my back turned.

I pulled at Ripley's leash again,
feeling condensation accruing on my palms.

I turned,
ever so slightly,
catching a glimpse of his long tailed,
black leather trench coat,
flapping in the wind behind him.

He continued to walk toward us,
no faster,
no slower.

My heart began to flutter,
as a gust of wind aggressively blew.

He was drawing closer,
without a word,
a nod,
or acknowledgement.

Ten steps away,
I pulled at Ripley's leash, who finally picked up the pace.

We turned the corner,
and walked until we reached the house,
never looking back.

It wasn't until we were in the safety of the driveway,
that I turned to make sure he didn't follow us.

If only that were the last time I would see him...