1976 Yamaha XS650

I received a package today.

It was delivered from Medicine Hat.

It was a motorsickle.

It was a 1976 Yamaha XS650.

We unloaded it from a truck and looked at it for a bit.

It started on first try.  Sweet.

I took it for a spin around the block while wearing flippy floppys and without a helmet.

I looked it over for a few more minutes.

Good looking bike.

Sold.

I wrote the guy a cheque.

I hope it doesn't bounce.

The guy who sold it to me left.

I showed Kristin the new old bike.

I tried to start it for her so she could her it purrrr.

It didn't start.

It didn't start again.

Shit.

It didn't start again.

Shit.

It didn't start again.

I called the guy who sold it to me.

He told me to calm down and take a deep breath.

These ol' bikes need patience.

Turn on fuel.  Choke.  Starter. Choke. Throttle.  Starter.  Starter.  Throttle. Purrrrrr.

I rode it around the block again...Illegally.

I parked it next to her brother in the garage.

They like each other.

She has no idea what is going to happen her in the next year.

Neither do I.