Rich Brunelle

I dream of days astride my bike with a babe at my back cruising a coastline with a florescent red sunset to the west far out across the sea. Santana's music playing in my ear as I run through the corners shifting my gears. As I reach the end of my road, kiss me deeply and tell me it was wonderful and then lie me down to a peaceful sleep. Even with the bad times, it was wonderful, wasn't it . . .