Conspicuous cacophony

Rowe's bike is a Harley Davidson Sportster Iron 883.  Its pipes are stock.  They aren't loud, they don't grumble.  Perhaps the bike was manufactured to be silent and stealthy.  On this particular day, though, something was different.  The day begins as usual before work:  Abe rolls Rowe's bike down from the garage.  Rowe meanders outside, late as usual, but prepared for her usual morning ride.  She hops on the bike, turns it on, and it growls.   It never growled before.  BRmppp...pa..pop..pa..pa..BRmppp.  "Hmm, that's weird," Rowe muses, "engine must be cold".  With her growling engine, she takes off.  At a red light, she stops between two cars, and her pipes continue their conspicuous cacophony.  The drivers in the cars rudely look over at the raucous cause of their early morning awakening.  "No idea why the pipes are acting up, but I think I like this sound of some real pipes!" Rowe ruminates.

Abe later explains that when he had last ridden the bike, he hit some sort of pothole, and probably loosened the pipes somehow.  Not sure whether the bike needs to be fixed and the pipes return to their stock sound.

For just one month, writing for the November Blog Fest is like having new pipes...something different that allows me to collectively gather my thoughts, adding a new view to my daily life.  A fellow blogger in his blog Simple but Significant appropriately describes it, "When you’re trying to create and post a coherent blog everyday, the world looks a little different...Conversations become inspirations, the rough surface of the day is mined for its precious metals, thoughts become words..."

I'm an accountant, not a writer, and as I write this, I'm trying not to over-analyze words, paragraphs, or grammar.  Just jotting down my thoughts through simple stories, sometimes metaphorically using my love of motorcycling.  Oh, and I love using thesaurus.com.  Blogging is an opportunity to utilize vocabulary I otherwise wouldn't use in daily life.  So...beneath the conspicuous cacophony of grumbling pipes, the wheels are spinning...