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Without a thought he stashed his keys in the right pocket of his jean vest. He hadn’t planned on leaving home today; he would’ve grabbed his leather jacket if he had. Instead he was wearing a sleeveless vest made from an old jean jacket he’d worn for years. His arms would probably be more tan than the rest of his upper torso if they weren’t covered in dust and a few dead bugs here and there. Setting his bike on its kickstand, the heat from the motor licked hungrily at his leg as he stepped off. It still took him a few minutes to gather his wits about him after a ride, something about going from road warrior to whatever state of mind he was in now.

The screen on the first door to the ramshackle house had seen better days; he never had time to respline the damn thing. It didn’t matter much out here, this was more of a getaway than a home that he’d welcome company in. This place was more of a home than anywhere else he’d set foot in would ever be, he’d never find an eviction notice and there would never be a mailbox stuffed with bills and mailers impatiently awaiting his return. It wasn’t his escape though, this was place was his last resort.

Notes

respline isn't a word? lol