The motorcyclist rode into the distant setting sun.
What a perfect sunset. He thought.
When the sun rose again that morning, he thought, what a perfect sunrise.
He stopped at a fuel station and bought lunch.
"What a perfect burger." He said.
"I guess you don't have high standards," The chef said and the man peered at him with a shadow over his eyes.
"Why don't you shut up and do your job."
"What a perfect comeback." The chef replied, before heading back to work.
The cyclist looked back at him, then his burger, and swallowed.
"Dammit. It was... perfection."