The Great Highway, at Sloat

When I came to the end I felt so good I kept going.

But there was no where else to go.

I had nothing to do with everything for the first time in my life.

Not that I was having fun, fun is only what you're doing at the time you're having fun. Fun never looks ahead, if it did look ahead it wouldn't be fun it was having, it would be something else.

That's when I got off my bike and looked straight ahead.

It looked like someone had been there before me. Whoever it was, it looked like he died for my sins.

I knew I didn't want to be like him--that as a man he was much too critical and lived his life mostly to pass judgment and inflict his dissatisfaction on others--but that I was in danger of becoming a replica: someone who was old, essentially unhappy, wore khaki pants, white tennis shoes, and a floppy hat to protect his purple nose.

So I smiled, got back on my bike and rode home as fast as I could.