Easy Rider

He didn't remember when was the last time he took the bike for a ride to nowhere deciding where to go at every intersection, every junction, not knowing where he would end up. There would be nothing but the sun, the wind, the road, the roar of the machine beneath.
Still reminiscing, he mounted his bike. The engine awakened with a cough that became a deep, thrumming roar. With a sigh, he set off. He missed the feeling of the wind blowing through his hair, and he would never experience that sensation again.
The sun reflected off his bald head.