Late afternoon under a bridge in Queens, New York City, the traffic light is red. Left, right, then left again, I looked to cross the one way street. Then right again to verify what I thought I had seen. In front of the other cars, a woman sits quietly on a medium sized motorcycle. Perhaps in her late 30s, or early 40s. Under an open helmet, her face is alert and patient. There is another expression there I could not interpret. Something akin to serenity. Sitting behind her is a man. His hands loosely wrapped around her waist. Whose face under an open helmet, too, wore similar expressions as hers. On his left shoulder is a cotton, or perhaps linen tote bag. I wondered what was in the bag. As I stood watching, the light changed to yellow then quickly to green and they zoomed away.

Jane