. I used to think about them all the time...”We change angles, having cut a good ten minutes of her life-story... “My man ended up in prison ... T...e gang wasn’t the same without him ... My dad died, and my mam got sick ... So, I came home to look after her ... And it took years for her to die, and I forgot all about bikes, and life on the road, and sex ... And then, after she died, I bought this bike...” She indicates the bike she’s sitting on, “ ... And I started riding again ... And then I. She didn’t need to turn to see me. She just kept singing. It was like she expected me to be there, and coming from this direction. It seemed that was the point of her song, to bring me to her. And now that I was nearly there, it grew softer, but more intense, as if she were whispering to something deep within me. Her black dress was no more than a wrap, cinched with a wicca belt. Her boots were wrought deerskin, laced with leather. Above her knees to her thighs, nothing but white skin, and. More

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