the feeling of the wind was solid, and thick. I rode for a while now, through different platforms and stairs on my little diversion through India. I was about to go home but saw thins girl on a scooter falling off. She was dressed in a dress. I had to stop, not because some true urge, but because I had a thought that it's something I'd be proud of myself later on, or maybe I didn't want the shit hunting me, yet another one. So I stopped, she was fine and there was already hundreds of mothefuckers wanting to help, because she was a girl, attractiveness on an acceptable level.
Then I don't know, we ended up on some ranch, in India. Some cars, kitchen, young hindu guys, probably a son of this old, bearded american. Fat, little bit fat he was, like Maradona. Don't know what happened with my bike, but I said I want to just get to the airport at some point, because I have a flight booked. He offered me his truck, I could take it. So I did, and then he's calling me mid-road, that he needs the truck back, and I should come back from my hour-long drive, and him or someone else will take me there, or we'll figure it out. I got back, we chilled for a moment, and then he's saying that a whole bunch of prada's been stolen from the trunk. Prada shoes, he bought like 30 pairs for his ex-wife. Now I'm responsible or guilty, offered him maybe 2 pairs, cause I can't afford more. He agreed or nodded I can't remember what it was supposed to mean.
Then he gave me a shirt, that was cool. I lost it, tried to hang it in the closed but I dropped behind the closed, and now it's all dusted up.