Every rider meets a night where comfort whispers louder than danger—and that is when the road stops forgiving. He wanted rest, not destiny—but the quietest stops sometimes become the last place a man considers change. The engine roared, the night listened, and somewhere deep inside a choice was made that no daylight could undo. Coming soon to Easyriders Blog is the grim conclusion to this philosophical story–an allegory of a man in conflict with his ambitions. Do you ride or do you settle for what they always tell you—“it’s the future!” The Crossroad Trade by Ujjwal Dey He Never Planned to Go Far Out. The city thinned gradually, its glass towers shrinking into scattered warehouses, then into repair shops, then into small houses with rusted gates and sleeping dogs. Soon even those faded away. The road stretched wide open, bordered by fields unsure whether they were farmland or wilderness reclaiming itself. His Evolution V-Twin engine bobber hummed beneath him, a low, confident growl. It felt like the only certain thing left in his life. He rode for hours, chasing no destination in particular, only the quiet promise of distance. Only familiarity with him were his military boots and a freshly polished 1953 Harley-Davidson badge. The boots survived a desert of blood and betrayal. The badge he accepted as payment in a game of cards. Like his ride, he was a mix of thoughts, words and deeds at odds with the present and the past. At a lonely crossroad stood a gas station looking older than the asphalt leading to it. The sign flickered weakly. Dust swirled around the pumps. Beyond the station, two narrow country roads cut into a line of trees swallowed by the horizon. He pulled in. The attendant was an old man with thin shoulders and a hat. It seemed permanently part of his silhouette. His pale face was lined like cracked leather, his eyes sharp and black in contrast. “Looking for directions?” the old man asked, voice dry but steady. “That and some gas,” the rider said, removing his gloves. “Just figuring which road goes back to the highway.” The old man circled the motorcycle slowly, admiring the stripped-down bobber frame, the gleaming metal, the lean stance. “Beautiful machine,” he said. “Mind if I take her for a spin?” The rider chuckled. “That’s not how this usually works.” “I ain’t joking,” the old man said calmly. “You let me take a ride… you can have anything here.” “Anything?” “Liquor. Cigarettes. Food. Gasoline. The lady employee inside. Whatever you want. You rest. I ride.” The rider laughed again, louder this time. It sounded like the setup to some prank or trick-bag. An inspired candid video from rural hicks, the kind strangers filmed for social media reactions. “Sure,” he said sportingly. “Why not.” They shook hands. The old man’s grip was firm. Almost eager. Moments later, the 75 ft-lbs torque from the engine roared as the bobber shot down the narrow road disappearing into the woods. The rider watched the dust trail dissolve into the golden light of dusk. TO BE CONCLUDED……OVER AT EASYRIDERS BLOG, CLICK AND KNOW MORE Copyright Ujjwal Dey The post Biker Fiction: The Crossroad Trade appeared first on Bikernet.com - Online Biker Magazine.