I bought a scooter. I bought my freedom.
For two months now, I've been trapped in the house until Joplin and McKinley come home. Trapped by the heat, and trapped by no transportation. Last week, it almost got cool enough to go for a walk. I walked for two hours, and yet didn't manage to get all the way the the amazing stationery store that was my goal. I walked back along the ocean as a consolation prize.
But now I have a scooter. A 125 cc Yamaha, born the same year as McKinley. It belts out blue smoke when it starts (I know, Papa, oil problems!) but then it gets going, and the zips along through the city streets, where scooters reign abundant.
It has tiny tires, so the bumps are a little harsh, and the wind in the ears, the bugs in the eyes, the dust in the pores of the cheeks... well, it's a scooter, after all. A sweet little sister to a motorcycle.