The city rushed past her like she didn’t exist. An old woman… two canes… and traffic that wouldn’t stop. Then came the roar of a Harley. A man in a denim vest got off his bike and raised his hand— cars froze. What happened next silenced the entire street. She looked up, startled, her mouth trembling with a question she couldn’t seem to form. The man stepped into the crosswalk, steady and calm, like he’d done it a thousand times. His beard was thick, his hands weathered, and his vest carried patches with names and dates sewn into the back....
Continues…