A Grip on the Throttle

Silence reigned, until a jolt ran through my feathers! I flexed my gloved fingers and realized I was no mere statue—I could move! Gripping the windshield trim of my trusty motorcycle, I leaned forward and gave the handlebars a firm nudge. The front wheel squeaked slightly against the grey surface, rolling half an inch forward toward the miniature palm tree. The city may be quiet, but its greatest champion has finally taken the wheel!