by Amy Irene White
They Just Smoke More Weed
Last night I was sittin’ in my chair, window shopping chrome for my new hardtail Sportster, as my old back beat a steady rhythm of pain through my body… and I got a message from the sister of one of my old riding buddies. My heart thudded loudly as I stared for a minute at the first few words she typed… ‘Hey I keep forgetting to tell you that my brother Ron…’ I was terrified to click on it and read the end of that sentence.
Finally, I worked up the nerve to open it, and thankfully she was just telling me he was in a nursing home here in town.
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