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Every journey has a starting point, but sometimes it’s difficult to tell if there is a destination.

Sometimes you just start rolling and you end up someplace you never imagined.

That’s true of any journey. Even an innocent bike ride on a warm summer morning.

The starting point. A middle-aged man with a wife and kids, not entirely happy but not entirely unhappy either. Happy with most things except between the sheets. It happens to a lot of marriages, after the kids come along. After the partner becomes a mother and doesn’t always have a lot left over at the end of the day to be a wife.

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