he finally said. But I can’t just put you behind me like that without thinking either.
I glanced down at his motorcycle.
— You know, I whispered, I’ve already ridden on a two-wheeler.
His eyes widened.
– Oh yes ?
— In 1978, my son Paul bought himself a small motorcycle with his savings. He worked in a factory and said it was the only way he could feel the wind after his long days. One Sunday, he insisted on taking me for a ride.
A smile came to me involuntarily.
— My husband was furious. “At your age, on a motorcycle! Do you want to break your neck? And besides, it’s not serious, it’s not done,” he kept repeating.
— And you went there?
— Of course. Paul had just come through some rough nights, he was exhausted, but proud of his motorcycle. If he wanted to share some of his joy with his
