I Watched a Biker Fall to His Knees in a Graveyard Screaming a Child’s Name

Big man. Leather vest over a black t-shirt. His Harley was parked sideways on the gravel path like he’d gotten off in a hurry.

He was kneeling in front of a small headstone. The kind they use for children.

At first I thought he was praying. Then the sound came out of him.

It wasn’t crying. It was something older than crying. A sound a man makes when continue reading …