I lived with the lesbian couple from work. Out in the part of town called The Valley. On the lower level of an apartment building. In an apartment that had a basement. My room was in the basement. I parked my motorcycle inside there. By the back door.
    A girl I knew lived across the field, in an apartment with her father. I never rode my motorcycle across the field due to all the holes. I walked across the field.
    There was a mini-mart over there too. I'd walk over to buy one or two things. Little bags of things to eat. Sometimes the girl would meet me there and we'd walk back to my place.
    We would make out with the lights off and she'd let me take her shirt off. Her bra would stay on, in one way or another. I'd maneuver my hand into her pants. I would slide my fingers inside her. I always hoped my eyes would adjust to the dark. I always wished I could see. My bed was on the floor. My bed was against the wall. Sometimes we heard my roommates, moving around above us.
    Before it reached midnight, we would roll my motorcycle outside and push it up the little hill and out to the street. We didn't want to wake anyone up. I didn't want the lesbians to look out the window at us. I unlocked the helmet from the side of the bike and gave it to her. It was always cold in The Valley and the road was dark. Sometimes we just cruised until we got bored and turned around. Sometimes it rained, or even snowed.
    We didn't think about crashing because we never crashed.
    If you think about crashing you'll probably crash.
    After you crash the first time you always worry about crashing.



About the author:
Kevin Sampsell is a Portland writer and the publisher of Future Tense Books. Sadly, he hasn't been on a motorcycle for eight years. He has stories upcoming in J & L Illustrated #2 and Bullfight #1.

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