The storm hit the Rockies like it had a personal grudge. Rain came down in solid sheets, turning the old two-lane highway into a black river.
For nearly a month, the same motorcycle appeared behind my daughter every afternoon. Not close enough to speak to her. Not close enough to touch her. Just there. Every day, after nine-year-old Lily left Riverside Elementary and started the short walk home, a black Harley would emerge somewhere along the route. The rider always stayed … Read more