VF500F
" ... as mile after mile of divided black ribbon unfolded beneath my '84 Interceptor. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get her last words out of my mind.
As I came over the hill, I could see the setting sun and the clouds lined with orange and red. The tar in the cracks in the highway was the color of liquid gold, a spiderweb leading all the way to the horizon.
I kicked the transmission down into third gear, snapped the throttle open and felt the rush as the half liter V-four screamed through its powerband.
Suddenly, I couldn't remember a word she had said ..."
-From The Life Of Christopher T. Shields