For When Traffic Stops, I Always Imagine a Line of Motorcycles.

I was five when it happened.

It was a normal day, I was with my mom and dad and brother in the car. We were cruising smoothly down the highway when we began to slow.

I peaked over my mom's seat on the passenger side, wondering what was holding us up.

There was a man, tall and bearded. Him and a woman, his wife or girlfriend I assumed, stood in the middle of the highway, a black motorcycle parked behind them while they halted traffic.

We pulled to a stop several meters in front of the couple.

"What's going on?" my older brother, Jason, asked.

My father scowled. "I'm not sure."

A few minutes passed, and then a rumble started up. My brother and I leaned towards the window on my side. Jason had taken his seatbelt off to see.

The first one to appear was red, shining in the 6 pm sun. The next blue, then black, gray, another red, they kept coming. Some carried two people, others only one.

The thunderous boom of thirty or so motorcycles shook the air, but Jason and I watched, memorized.

~~~~~

This is for my dad's friend, whose dad passed away about a week ago. I wasn't at the memorial myself, but I saw a video of the drive to the cemetery.

This isn't exactly what happened, more along the lines of "I Survived". Real events with fictional people and plot